The Colonel- Series 2- Sequel to the Colonel
by ray gower
Summary: Captain Janeway learns more about the Colonel and faces some home truths. Seven of Nines 'Involvement' becomes deeper and B'Elanna receives a much awaited proposal eagerly accepted. Of course catching the Colonel is one thing, keeping him is another
1. Samuels Gambit

#  Samuels' Gambit

_The Captain finally finds a suitable duty for the Colonel, that is acceptable, then finds she cannot accept his unconventional methods of carrying them out. It has far reaching consequences..._

_Voyager and characters (except the Colonel) in this story are copyright of Paramount. No resemblance is intended to any person alive or dead._

_The story line and the Colonel is my own._

_Constructive criticism and comments are welcome on e-mail [story@rgower.f9.co.uk][1]._

_If like me you like to know why things occur like they do, I would heartily recommend you start with the first set of stories The Colonel- or visit my homepage- [www.thestoryboard.co.uk][2] _

_This story is rated PG on the UK sensors ratings_

_©R Gower 2000_

_Stand alone sequel to The Colonel (Alright I shouldn't have made rest chapters. But hey Nobodies perfect!')_

  
  


"Lieutenant Caerey's report shows a marked improvement in technical competence," commented Captain Janeway, "What's changed? His report last year suggested he was under-performing."

Captain Janeway, Commander Chakotay and Lieutenant Commander Tuvok were involved in the dreaded annual assessment of crew progress. They hated the ritual as much as the crew, but regarded it as necessary to prevent their crews careers losing out should they ever return to their own realm. 

"That was before his excursion in system G57452 with the Colonel, and your tongue lashing," Chakotay pointed out, "Since he was forced to build a good engine from the two damaged ones, he appears to have made a point of examining the design of shuttle warp engines. According to B'Elanna he has stripped the engines from the 'Flyer', totally redesigned them and rebuilt them so they produce nearly 20% more power. In the process it seems that they are now more reliable and require almost no tools to repair."

"Mark it up in the records," she agreed reluctantly.

"The Doctor reports Tom Paris has show an improvement in his medical abilities?" she queried.

"Kellor," answered Tuvok promptly, explaining everything in one word.

She sighed. it appeared to be a common statement of anybody that had been in the Colonel's presence for more than a couple of days. They suddenly appeared to improve their abilities, even little Naomi Wildman had blossomed as he had taken a role in broadening her education.

"I won't ask about Seven of Nine," she commented drily, "The differences are too obvious to be commented upon. She's in real danger of becoming popular with the crew."

"Anybody else?" She queried.

"Only Colonel Samuels," announced Tuvok.

"Yes, our only problem crew member!" she replied more calmly than she felt, she had been dreading this. 

They had discussed the relevance of including him in the annual assessments long and hard. Nominally he was still an ally, a member of another organisation not a crew member. He had undertaken the training that they had deemed necessary and the promotion to 'Ensign' with good grace and humour, and had now become so firmly entrenched as a member of the crew that it was difficult to imagine him not actually being a member of the crew. But he was now seriously struggling with the advanced studies that would qualify him to proceed up the Star Fleet ladder.

"He is failing in his studies and his command aptitude test results are patchy," described Tuvok, reading from his PADD.

"But when we put him through the 'No Win' scenario, he defeated the Simulation. As far as I know that's only the second time in Star Fleet history, and the first time Captain Kirk cheated," fired back Chakotay.

"He also defeated the second and subsequent 'No Win' scenarios. He does not think but reacts, deploying non-conventional solutions," admitted the unperturbed Vulcan, "But that does not make him a Command Officer."

"The Colonel once gave me his definition of a Commander," commented the Captain dreamily. 

They looked at her keenly.

"He claimed, a good Commander makes decisions and stays with them. He doesn't do computer programming, engine repairs or star gazing, there are always people who can do it for him and better. What he needs to do is find them and get them to do it well and willingly in circumstances that they would never accept normally," she stated, "We know that definition works! We've seen it numerous times."

"It would help if he understood the nature of what he is working with," Chakotay complained, "And there are times that he patently doesn't."

"That is why there is difficulty finding a permanent role for him on the ship," agreed Tuvok, "I have demonstrated Star Fleet protocols for Tactical Situations and weapons systems numerous times, but he has repeatedly failed to understand the operation of the weapons and disregards the reasoning for the protocols."

"But that's just isn't it!" The Captain claimed hotly, "As a Commander, does he need to know why it requires 300 Terra Watts of power to fire a phasor. If he has the power, he needs to know what to hit first and the protocols don't decide that, if he hasn't he needs to do something else. That's the point of his definition, he answers the 'How' and 'What' and leaves the 'Why' for somebody else to consider, when there is more time."

"Are you trying to protect him?" Asked Chakotay pointedly.

"If you had the choice and in serious danger who would you prefer in command, somebody who analysis's all the possible solutions and runs out of time in making a decision, or picks a book solution that doesn't work because the enemy is expecting it, or one that can sum up the situation in an instant and reacts with a solution that works?" She asked them sharply.

"There is a certain logic to your arguments," intercepted Tuvok, "Perhaps that's why he does well in the Tactical simulations and poorly in the theoretical subjects, he does not consider them as important."

"Could somebody else take over from Seven of Nine as instructor? Perhaps they're being affected by their mutual affections?" Suggested the Captain, hopefully.

"I do not think so," answered Tuvok, "He regularly seeks out the most relevant crew members for assistance when he comes to a problem that he cannot solve," he advised, "I believe he has brought some of them to you for an explanation, Captain."

"Yes, he has brought several scenario discussions to me," she admitted, "It feels as though I've lost as many Star Fleet recommended solutions as I've won," she added frankly. 

"I have also been forced to review my thoughts on certain logical beliefs," admitted Tuvok candidly.

"I think when we get home, we're going to have to campaign for a complete overhaul of Star Fleets training methods," voted Chakotay cheerfully, he had also faced the Colonels close questioning, "There are more than a few places where he drives holes through them." 

"Have you asked what he would have done in our situation with the Caretaker?" He asked quietly.

"Yes, I tried," she admitted defensively, "His answer was, 'Did I believe in what I was doing? If I did it was the correct decision, if I didn't then I was wrong and should take my only remaining duty and Blow my brains out'. He even offered me a gun if I decided on the latter solution." 

She smiled, remembering the conversation, "He has very firm views over a Commanders duty."

"I got a similar response," admitted Chakotay, "I don't think he would have used the same solution."

"This isn't solving our immediate problem, what do we do with him to encourage his progress?" The Captain slammed the discussion back to their main topic again.

"We could give him the Dog Watch," suggested Chakotay thoughtfully.

The Captain looked at him incredulously. "Are you serious?" she asked. 

The Dog Watch was traditionally used for training new Bridge Crew and supply the required service hours for promotion, it normally operated only during quiet periods in home territory, it had not operated on the Voyager for over two years.

"I don't see why not," answered Chakotay mildly, "We know he can command, it's a quiet watch and there is always a senior ships officer on call, we know he has a beneficial effect on those around him, perhaps they'll all benefit!"

She nodded slowly, the idea had potential. "It might even stop him asking to be arrested for exceeding his authority, after saving the ship and crew," she mused.

"Would he accept the command?" Asked Tuvok, "It would be against the spirit of what he declared when he joined the ship," he continued.

"I'll see Seven about it when she comes on duty next," the Captain announced smiling, "If between us we can't persuade him, then I ought to do what he suggested and blow my brains out," she added lightly.

"Computer, advise me when Seven of Nine returns to Astrometrics," she commanded.

"Acknowledged."

  
  


On the Mess deck Lieutenants Paris, Torres and Caerey were having breakfast together, before the start of the shift. Like their senior officers they were comparing notes and opinions of their experiences of the Colonels unique command strategy. They were having less success. 

"I want to know how he managed to bring that shuttle down in one piece," announced Tom Paris, "I've been over the logs a dozen times, even ran it through the Holodeck. To gain control of it at all was a major piloting feat, but the manoeuvre he used to level it out is not even listed in the flight manuals and the Holodeck simulation simply crashes."

"It still baffles me," admitted Caerey, "That shuttle was a right-off, we stagger off it and the first thing he does is tell me to repair it and I went along with it."

"You could've argued with him," suggested Torres pointedly, "He wouldn't of known any better!"

"Could you argue with him and expect to win?" He challenged, "I think he would have killed me on the spot!"

She shook her head, "Probably not," she affirmed.

"I wonder if Seven ever wins," she pondered aloud, "They are both so similar in attitude but so very different in the way they look at things."

"I think she's the only person on the ship, after the Captain, who could," vowed Paris.

"We could ask her, she's just come in," suggested Caerey lightly, he waved her over.

"Good Morning, Seven," they chorused cheerfully as she approached.

"Lieutenants," she answered in her characteristically cool manner.

"Won't you sit down and I'll get some tea," Caerey offered, knowing the preference she had gained from the Colonel.

"That will not be necessary, I came to collect a package from Neelix," she informed them.

"We were wondering where he came up with the manoeuvre he used to level the shuttle?" Asked Tom Paris, "The Holodeck simulation says it can't be done."

The Holodeck simulation is in error," she informed him with obvious relish, "It has been programmed to conform with the normal flight dynamics and operation of a shuttle. The Colonel carried out a high risk action that he believed would be successful. In the circumstances is was the correct decision, there were no other manoeuvres available that would have prevented the Shuttle from crashing and allow the crew to survive.

He is remarkably resourceful," she added with obvious pride.

"Where did he learn it?" asked Torres gently.

"I am uncertain, but you could ask him to demonstrate his aeroplane," she suggested.

"Aeroplane!" Exclaimed Paris in amazement, "Where did he find it?"

"He found the design schematics for a primitive biplane in a historical text, he asked me to help recreate it as a holodeck programme."

"Have you tried it?" Asked Paris enthusiastically.

"Affirmative," she paused to find the right words, "The design is inefficient and inferior. It makes it unstable and highly dangerous," she described. 

She had eventually enjoyed her simulated flights after she had overcome the initial terror of attempting to control the wayward creation that appeared to have a mind of its own. She had tried the controls and had crashed it several times, to the amusement of the Colonel in the back seat. He had patiently taught her how to combine the simple controls to achieve 'simple' aerobatic manoeuvres, though to her mind, full of advanced technology, the fact that it flew at all was nothing short of miraculous.

"I'll do it this afternoon," vowed the excited Tom Paris.

"I'll come and watch you make a fool of yourself," volunteered Torres.

"I must depart," announced Seven calmly.

She took her parcel from Neelix, who looked particularly happy over the contents, and left the Mess. They watched her go.

"He's changed her beyond all recognition," commented Torres wistfully.

They split up for their shifts.

  
  


"Seven?" Announced the Captain, entering Astrometrics.

"Captain?" The blonde responded casually, looking around from her console.

"I've been missing our little discussions on the meaning of humanity and individuality," the Captain teased gently.

Seven of Nine coloured slightly, "I have discovered that the Colonel's opinions are not dissimilar to your own and he has more time to discuss them, therefore I have not needed to consult you on many things that are unclear," she announced.

"They are?" The Captain queried voice rising in surprise, "I had thought they were very different," she commented.

The ex-Borg replied, "Your opinions and beliefs are the same, it is the difference in your respective approaches that mark your individuality."

"Go on," the Captain prompted fascinated, she had not considered there to be any commonality between her and the tall Colonel, certainly not enough for the ex-borg to pick up on.

Seven of Nine ceased her work at the console and turned to face the Captain properly. 

"You both accept that other opinions and beliefs may be valid and actively seek them out, until you have formed a conclusion, from that point you will not change your decisions but adapt them. You both believe that the freedom of the individual to make their own choices is of prime importance, but if action is required for the greater good then you will both override choice. You are both prepared to take extreme risks to ensure the safety of those around you," she catalogued, "The differences in your actions are a function of your training and experiences, you rely upon your greater understanding and knowledge of technology and the situation around you, he relies upon his instincts, greater understanding of humans and sometimes his more physical attributes." 

"I believe you tested him on his probable reactions if faced with the scenario that brought Voyager to the Delta Quadrant?" Seven of Nine asked, seeking an example.

"Yes," the Captain affirmed carefully, "But he never gave me a real answer, What of it?"

"We discussed the question at length. The Colonel was of the opinion that the correct solution was to save the crew," answered Seven bluntly, "Then he investigated your training and background in Star Fleet records, in case the question was raised again. He is now of the opinion that given the same circumstances he would probably have responded similarly," she announced calmly.

Captain Janeway was stunned by the statement. She had asked the question of herself many times during their time in the Delta Quadrant and had found the justification of her actions more and more difficult to affirm as time went by. To find anybody who was prepared to state they would make a similar decision in the circumstances was a revelation, even if it was a Twentieth Century soldier.

Mentally shaking herself, she kicked herself back to the purpose of her visit to see Seven of Nine.

"As you know more about the Colonel and the way he thinks than anybody else aboard the ship, perhaps you can help me with a question of his individuality?" She asked.

"Captain?" Seven replied, eyebrow raised.

"I have noticed he is struggling with his studies," the Captain stated.

"He finds them difficult to comprehend," agreed Seven, "He is unlikely to qualify as a Star Fleet Officer without additional effort."

"Do you think he could command a Star Ship?" The Captain questioned her, grateful for Seven's inevitable honesty.

"It has been my experience that if the circumstances demand action, he will assume control despite status and those around him will follow his instructions," Seven answered obliquely.

"I'll take that as a yes," the Captain smiled, "We want him to take control of the Dog Watch. If we can't make him an officer through technical ability, perhaps we can achieve it through practical competence," she confided.

"He will refuse," pointed out Seven of Nine emphatically, "He is aware that he does not qualify as a Star Fleet Command Officer, it would put you in contravention to the rules and regulations and may damage his status as an ally."

"I know," replied the Captain, "But could he be convinced?" She persisted, "We both know he could do it with his eyes shut and I'm sure you would like to see him in a command role?" She suggested, attempting to ignite a touch of ambition in Seven of Nine for her beau.

Seven of Nine considered the prospect carefully, finally she announced, "It will be difficult, but it may be possible. He needs to command, but feels he would be out of place. Perhaps we will discuss it over dinner tonight? You will attend?" 

The Captain smiled, It sounded more of an order than a suggestion.

"Okay, what's cooking?" She asked lightly.

"It is one of his preferred meals, Lancashire Hot Pot," Seven of Nine confided, "I have carried out extensive testing with Neelix to obtain the ingredients and achieve the correct results. The recipe is unusual, but has been perfected."

The Captain almost laughed, the extent to which Seven of Nine went to surprise and please the Colonel was nothing short of astounding. "It's not the most romantic meal in the world," she confided to the blonde, "Just don't put candles on the table!"

"Captain?" Seven of Nine queried, slightly confused.

"I'm not a chef," the Captain pointed out, "But I know that Hot Pot's would be a favourite for the Colonel because they are simple, practical and nutritious. They don't figure high in the romance stakes, so candle light would not be appropriate."

"Your not trying too hard to make him happy are you?" She questioned seriously, "I think it would be a mistake to fawn over him too much, it will upset both of you in the end. He loves you because you are so independent, aloof and direct," she continued, assuming her role as Seven of Nine's spiritual councillor.

"He will not let me do things for him!" Seven protested passionately. "When we were stranded, he made me feel I was the only thing of importance in the galaxy. I did not realise until the last night in the cave the extent that he was hiding his own feelings in an attempt to protect me from them. When they were released, he was ashamed of his actions and the damage they may cause. He believes he has failed me and still resists his feelings. He thinks he should protect me from himself, I do not wish him to," she continued desperately.

The Captain nodded, the statements fitted her assessments of their relationship. "Fine, I'll see you at dinner," she announced and left.

  
  


"Seven tells me you've found an aeroplane?" asked Tom Paris, sitting down at the Colonels table at lunch, "Care to share it? I'll give you access to my Captain Proton programmes," he offered.

The Colonel looked at him shrewdly, a smile playing on his lips.

"Lieutenant, you forget that I saw the originals at the Saturday cinema matinees, Buck Rodgers, Flash Gordon et all, I thought they were crap then, I don't think they will have improved with age. I preferred the Lone Ranger," he confessed frankly, "As for my programme, you are welcome to have a look anytime you like."

"I'm free this afternoon," suggested Paris, a little disappointed at the Colonels distaste for his monochrome creation.

"So am I," the Colonel growled quickly, it would be easier than another session of advanced astronomy, he thought. "I'll teach you real flying?" He offered, "Lets say 14:00 hours."

"Fine," agreed Paris. 

  
  


Two o'clock found Tom Paris at the door of the holodeck waiting impatiently for the Colonel.

"Here already Lieutenant? Keen to die are we?" The Colonel quipped, handing him a leather flying jacket. He activated the programme and they entered.

"People flew in that! Couldn't you find anything a little more modern. What is it" spluttered Paris, as he took in the prehistoric monster he was faced with. It was a biplane, doped fabric stretched taught over a seemingly spindly wooden frame. A small and open cockpit sat behind the forward wings and a second larger one sat behind that. At the front was a two bladed wooden propellor attached to the most amazing engine he had ever seen.

"Not as a two seater," admitted the Colonel, "Unless I wanted an F16, but they are too complicated to be fun and my knowledge of aeronautics is too slim to modify a Spitfire airframe, and man has gone to war in far less advanced flying machines." 

"Lieutenant Paris may I introduce the Avro 504, a mainstay of His Majesties Royal Air Force from the early 1920's to the late 1930's, as a trainer," he announced, "Unlike a shuttle which uses brute force and ignorance, it has to operate in sympathy with the air around it. The rotary engine at the front puts out about 300 horse power, gives it a top speed of about 130 knots, a landing speed of about 70 and a stall speed rather lower than that. In the right conditions you can actually find yourself flying backwards."

"You learned to fly in one of those?" Paris asked in astonishment.

"Good heavens no! I'm not that old!" Exclaimed the Colonel, "I was taught on Chipmunks, but the general rules are the same, push, pull, waggle and kick. If you care to get in the front I'll give you a guided tour."

The cockpit, to Tom Paris, was as amazing as the rest of the aircraft, he was faced a total of five analogue instruments and two control levers, compared to the multitude of quick reacting displays and controls on the Voyager, there did not appear anything like enough to fly the machine. The guided tour took less than two minutes. "The dials in front of you are, barometric altimeter, magnetic compass, the spirit level thing is the turn and bank indicator, air speed indicator and rev counter," the Colonel pointed them out as he announced them, "None of them are remotely accurate, but give an indication of what's happening," he confessed. 

"The two switches control the engine ignition and magneto's, the lever on the left of the dash is the throttle, push for more power pull for less, the two peddles control the rudder, the stick in the middle is the control column and controls the ailerons and elevators like so," he demonstrated those as well, "The control column is often referred to as a joystick, probably because if it works it's to the great joy to the idiot using it 'cos he's not going to die today," he added lightly.

"A tip to the wise," he commented as he strapped Paris into the seat and attached a helmet and speaking tube, "We have nearly a ton of engine spinning around at the front of an aircraft that weighs only slightly more than three, there is a remarkable amount of torque. When on the ground you will need a certain amount of left rudder to counter the engine. In the air you will need left stick to stop it screwing itself into the ground for the same reason."

He climbed down and approached the front of the aircraft and pulled the propellor back, "If you could pull the throttles half way out and flick the ignition switches down we can start. If it fires you may have to pump the throttle a couple of times until it idles, then pull it all the way out until it's just ticking over," he called.

Tom Paris did as he was bid, and spent several frantic moments, trying to keep the clattering and banging engine running. He barely noticed the Colonel climbing into the seat behind him, until he heard his voice over the intercom. "Thank you Lieutenant, I have the controls. As it is your first flight, I suggest you let me take off and land, but I'll talk you through it as we proceed," he called casually.

Tom Paris could only nod thankfully. He watched the controls with interest as the Colonel started to run up the big engine, then he felt it start to move and gripped the sides in alarm, certain the machine would collapse around them.

"Engine is running smoothly," commented the Colonel in his ear. Tom Paris couldn't believe the statement, it felt as though his teeth were being shaken out of his mouth.

"The wind is in our face, so we can apply full power and attempt a take off."

Paris heard and felt the engine start to howl and the biplane started to bounce across the grass, the trees at the other end of the airfield appeared to take on a whole new dimension of horror as they quickly bounced towards them.

"Forty knots," came the Colonels voice, "Applying left stick to counter torque and forward stick to get the tail up."

Suddenly the bouncing from the aircraft over the grass stopped. "Fifty-five knots-ish," announced the Colonel, "We are in the air, at sixty we can start to pull the stick back so we can clear the trees."

The Colonels voice seemed so calm, all Paris could do was to watch in terror as the trees in front now started to fly towards him at increasing speed. Gently the aircraft started to climb away, but the thirty feet between the aircraft and the tops of the trees seemed dangerously close to Paris.

"It's all a matter of relative speed and mathematics," called the Colonel, attempting to calm his nervous passenger, "Get enough air under the wings and it's got to go up. Now sit tight and enjoy the view. We'll find out what you had for lunch later!" He threatened.

Tom Paris attempted to look out from the cockpit at the ground below him and keep track of the Colonels activities at the controls, he forgot how frightening the take off had seemed, as he considered how different everything looked from the strange aircraft.

"Okay, take the column and throttle," came the Colonels voice in his ear again. He took it gently. "Put your bloody fist around it, it won't break and you need to be firm with it 'else it will run away," the Colonel shouted at him as the aircraft lurched in an attempt to escape.

"That's better," he encouraged, "A little more left stick to keep us level and watch the instruments, keep us steady and level for a few minutes."

The task seemed impossible to Tom Paris, if he held the stick stationary for more than a moment a wing would come up or the nose would drop. Concentrating hard he finally managed to keep the machine reasonably straight.

"Not bad," the Colonel admitted gruffly, "Lets try something a little more difficult, we'll turn right 90 degrees. Open the throttle a touch and let the airspeed build a little. Good, now push the stick to the right and back a little and apply a little right rudder, watch the bank indicator, don't let it go beyond about forty-five degrees for the moment. The speed is dropping, a little more right rudder will bring the nose down a little for more speed, now check the compass we are coming to our new heading, you can back the stick to the left until we come level again, and push the throttle back where it came from," the Colonel kept up his running commentary as Paris struggled to comply to his commands.

"This is awful," he shouted back to the Colonel, "It can't even keep a straight course, turning is nearly impossible."

The Colonel laughed, "Really! I find it much easier than a shuttle, it does what you tell it in the amount you tell it, it doesn't think about it then do what it decides you really wanted," He commented. "Now turn left onto our original course, you will need to be firmer with the controls and the nose will try to come up harder because of the torque effect," He commanded.

For nearly an hour the Colonel kept Paris performing simple manoeuvres. Finally he announced, "Not bad, but we had better get back to the 'drome. I'll take her for a moment please."

Thankfully Tom Paris released the stick, turning had become easier as he had gained confidence, but he could still feel the sweat trickling down his back. The next moment he was holding the sides of the cockpit desperately, as the aircraft suddenly pointed its nose down and the Colonel opened the throttle wide. Just as suddenly he felt it lurch into a climb as the Colonel pulled the stick back hard, he held it as the world turned over then he let it snap back upright again. Paris looked back at him accusingly, he felt as though his stomach had launched itself out of his mouth. 

"It was mean of me to carry out an Immelmann," he announced sympathetically, "But it was how I felt when you took me out for the first time in a shuttle. It is also one of the fastest ways of retracing your route, but is not a shuttle manoeuvre. If you care to take the stick again we can try some more advanced aerobatics," he called.

Again Paris found himself with the controls in his clenched fists, as the Colonel took him through various rolls and climbing and diving manoeuvres, finishing with a loop.

"I see our aerodrome is below us," the Colonel called at last, "But we are too high. It is a good opportunity to demonstrate a stall spin. It is very violent, but you need to take note of what I say, it may save your life if you get in the same situation, the procedure is different to a shuttle spin, but probably more controllable."

So saying he pulled the aircraft up to an almost perfect standstill, then let it twirl towards the ground. All the time he kept up a running commentary of his actions to the terrified Paris, as he levelled and settled the tumbling aircraft, finally levelling it off no more than a hundred feet above the ground and heading for their aerodrome.

Stiffly Tom Paris climbed out of the aircraft, then collapsed as he stood on the ground, they had been in it for nearly three hours he realised, he was shattered but exhilarated by the experience. "That was amazing," he announced at last, getting up, "I've got to get B'Elanna on this," he bubbled.

"I told you it was easy, but you need more hours first," laughed the Colonel, "There's still much to learn before you try going solo. We can try again in a couple of days?" he offered, "In the mean time I'm going for a cuppa, want one?"

He set off for his quarters, Paris in tow. He chimed the rooms bell, as he always did and waited for a moment for the invitation to enter, he had entered several times in the past without waiting and had been embarrassed to find Seven of Nine in various states of undress, he tried to avoid it as much as possible. Given the okay from inside they entered to find the Captain with Seven of Nine. The Colonel automatically came to attention and snapped a salute, as he always did in the Captains presence.

"I'm sorry Ma'am, Miss Nine, I wasn't aware you were in discussion, I will leave," he apologised, turning to go.

"That is unnecessary," advised Seven of Nine, "The Captain is our guest for dinner."

"What have you two been upto?" the Captain interrupted casually.

"I've been teaching Lieutenant Paris to fly, Ma'am," he informed her crisply.

"He is already one of Star Fleets best pilots and amazing as it may seem, you're not," pointed out Captain Janeway witheringly, hiding her amusement at the statement.

"Not in what I've been flying, Captain," Tom Paris announced happily, "It is out of this world!"

"Explain?" Her curiosity rising.

"Lieutenant Paris wished to find out how the Colonel managed to control the shuttle he crash landed, I suggested that he should ask the Colonel to demonstrate his primitive aeroplane programme on the Holodeck," Seven of Nine explained for them, producing two mugs of tea for the two men.

"You can describe it to me over dinner," the Captain suggested mildly.

"I've got a dinner date with B'Elanna," announced Tom Paris, catching the Captains meaningful look, "I'll catch up with you later about more lessons," he followed to the Colonel.

He nodded distracted in thought.

"You seem worried Colonel," the Captain commented, "Two women too much for you?" She teased.

"No Ma'am," he answered calmly, "I'm just trying to work out what I've done wrong recently. Whatever it is I deny it totally on the grounds I don't remember it!" He added brightly.

"The only thing you've done wrong, is that you still refer to me as 'Ma'am', when I'm informal and off duty," the Captain laughed at him, "I'm not fond of the term at the best of times."

"And don't start the Miss thing either, it makes you sound too much like a servant," she added quickly.

"Very well Captain," he answered calmly.

She threw up her hands in defeat and turned to Seven of Nine, who was setting the table. "Is he ever informal?" She asked desperately.

"Sometimes," admitted Seven of Nine. "But it is frustrating waiting," she confided.

"This aeroplane of yours, tell me about it?" The Captain asked as they sat to their meal.

Cheerfully the Colonel described it and its history.

"You know a lot about primitive aircraft," She commented at length, "You have studied them?"

"I was a Biggles fan as a kid," he affirmed. "Sorry, he was a fictional fighter pilot in the First World War," he explained, seeing her confused look.

"What's your opinion of it Seven," she asked the dispassionate blonde.

"It is primitive and dangerous, the people who flew them in real life were either brave or foolish, but there is pleasure in flying in it," she admitted candidly.

"I think I might come and try it one day, it sounds fascinating," she announced, then turned to her purpose for attending dinner.

"Seven of Nine says you've reconsidered your response to the Caretaker scenario?" She asked, glancing at Seven of Nine, who was waiting for the Captain to bring up her proposal. She was wondering why humans found it hard to come to the point.

"I have considered my response," he admitted carefully.

"And what is your answer now?" She prompted.

"Given the facts as were available at the time I would have destroyed the Caretakers platform," he admitted, "But I would not hide behind the 'Prime Directive', I do not believe it was applicable in the circumstances," he added.

"Not applicable?" she asked curious.

"The Prime Directive was made ineffective the moment you arrived, you were moved against your will and made involved, interference was therefore unavoidable. From that point you are left with your sense of right and wrong, Star Fleet training encourages a particular view on the difference, you would have little choice but to select what you believed to be right in the circumstances," he explained.

"But you would not have done it as you currently stand?" She sought his honest opinion.

"No Captain. In my view, all though it may take longer, the end result will be the same. In the absence of any specific instructions or personal involvement, my reaction would be for the safety of my men," he answered.

"Why did you do what you've done elsewhere, Kellor for instance?" She demanded.

"Because we could make a difference, there was a clear instruction to befriend the Kellorans and we were personally involved. Please remember I am not an explorer by nature or training," he explained. "As a soldier I am given a goal, I carry out such actions as are necessary to achieve that goal, whilst keeping faith with my honour and the regulations you have often laughed at. I am not normally required to form a policy or create the goal as you are. You acted in the method that suited your interpretation of your values, I would have acted based upon my own," he pointed out calmly.

"Seven believes we hold the same beliefs and values," stated the Captain.

"We probably do," agreed the Colonel, "But we put them in a different order of importance, so it would take somebody as analytical as Miss Nine to spot the similarity."

She nodded, accepting the argument.

"I am going to re-establish the 'Dog Watch', I want you to command it," She announced quickly, she tensed for the inevitable argument.

"The offer is tempting, but are you sure Captain?" He asked carefully, "I am still not qualified and it may cause a lot of grief when you get home," he added.

"Yes I'm sure," she announced firmly, "I know you can command, you do it naturally, there is not a person on this ship, including myself, who hasn't followed your orders without question, at some point. The experience may help you with your studies and the service will prove your competence to anybody who questions the decision," she continued.

"May I consider my response?" He asked quietly, trying to think of a way to refuse without causing embarrassment.

She looked at him hard, trying to see past the neutral mask. "No," she said, suddenly realising his intention, "Consider it an order."

He stood, slammed to attention and saluted, "Ma'am!" He intoned sharply.

She sighed deeply, she hadn't thought he would accept the order, and thanked his regulations that he had. "Please sit down again Colonel, we aren't that formal," she smiled.

"No Captain, you're not," he agreed slowly, "But I am. It may make a big difference in how things work out and how you view it," he added.

When the Captain left he turned to Seven of Nine, "I assume she made sure you were here for moral support?" He challenged her coldly.

"If it was necessary, I was to help persuade you," she admitted openly, "We both believe you need to command."

He nodded, "I suppose your right, it is a little dull being a spare part," he admitted.

He cheered up again, "I haven't told you how good the the dinner was tonight, it was absolutely perfect, I could almost taste the Mars bar and the dumplings were perfect. Thank you!" He smiled.

"I was unsure of the purpose of the confectionery until I tested it," she commented, "It seemed to add flavour to the meal."

  
  


The Captain made straight for the bridge where she met Chakotay. He looked at her in surprise as she entered.

"He's accepted!" She announced happily, "Who else are we putting on the shift with him?"

"How many do you want?" He asked laughing, "I've had forty volunteers, including Tom Paris and B'Elanna Torres."

"Good grief, I hope you said no. Those two are too important to the ship for a Dog Watch!" She exclaimed in surprise.

"I did, I think they thought it might be fun," he confirmed, "I was thinking of four and changing Seven of Nines shift to match the watch. If she can train the Colonel, she may as well watch over the others as well."

"Sounds good to me," she agreed readily, "We'll introduce it tomorrow night."

She left the bridge and returned to her quarters for a peaceful nights sleep.

  
  


The Colonel inspected his new shift with a waspish eye. His new squad consisted of three ensigns and a crewman. Ensign Carver he knew as an experienced deck officer. 

"Why did you volunteer Mr Carver?" He asked, "I thought you were well on your way to your pips."

"I thought you might like a little experience on your staff sir," he replied quickly.

The Colonel smiled, "You may not like the experience of me in charge," he suggested mildly.

"Everybody has survived so far Sir!" Carver announced loyally, he couldn't help the response.

"How about you, Crewman Winston?" the Colonel spoke to the tall black human gently.

"I was an officer, Sir. I failed in my duty, I want my rank back," He spat sharply, his voice challenging.

"Hurts doesn't it? At least you have the opportunity of a second chance, it wouldn't be an option for me in your circumstances," the Colonel commented sympathetically, "I'm not entirely sure this will get you there but you're welcome aboard," he added warmly.

"Yes Sir, Thank you," Winston was surprised by the Colonels seemingly genuine sympathy.

The Colonel turned his attentions to the remaining two Ensigns Torick and Kala. "I know why you two are here," he addressed them. "You are both ambitious and want to improve your status. Well I am happy with that, the goal is to help you achieve it. As long as you leave your impatience at the door when you come in," he demanded. "However before we start there are certain ground rules we will lay down here and now, if you don't think you can hold to them, I suggest you say so now and leave."

"First, we will operate in the manner and customs I am used to. It means you will be correctly dressed at all times, show proper respect to all other crew and give nothing but your absolute and total loyalty to me, each other and the ship. I will not ask you to salute, as that is not part of Star Fleet custom, but when on duty, you will address each other formally and correctly."

"Second, as you know my so called technical abilities are probably a lot lower than yours. I will therefore rely on your abilities, but I'll jump on you from a great height if you try and pull the wool over my eyes."

"Third, the moment you walk onto the Bridge, the phrases 'No', 'it can't be done' and similar negatives will no longer exist in the English language. I want to know what can be done, not what can't. You will find it difficult at first, but you will get the hang of it."

"Finally, if you still think this is going to be an easy ride, then you are very sadly mistaken. I have been told that a Dog Watch is an easy way to gain the hours required for promotion. I do not believe in easy ways. I will challenge each one of you in your abilities and will teach you to think harder, faster and more accurately than you thought possible, using every clue available for a solution. If anybody wishes to offer scenarios and problems for the watch I will happily discuss them and we will attempt solutions together."

"Any questions? Anybody wanting to leave?" He asked finishing his speech.

"Sure now?" He asked again as they shook their heads.

"In that case I will see you all scrubbed and presentable at 02:00," he announced, "Good afternoon Ladies and Gentleman." He dismissed them.

They slammed to attention, turned and departed.

The Captain had been listening in to the rules he had laid down. Compared to the rules she had been under when she served in the Dog Watch, they seemed over strict and harsh.

"You've set them a big hurdle Colonel," she commented, "They could struggle."

He turned to her. "In the army, it used to be said that if you were ordered to jump you asked 'how high?'. I never held to that view, I would expect them to achieve the right height without asking. Officers shouldn't need to be told to jump at all!" He explained bluntly, then smiled, "I don't think it will be a popular shift for a while, until they get the hang of it, but when they come out the other end I expect them to be at least very good."

"So you've set yourself high hurdles as well" she remarked coolly, "We shall see how effective your Twentieth Century methods are here." 

She turned and left.

"The Captain is sceptical Miss Nine, what is your opinion, am I going to push them beyond the realms of reasonableness?" he asked quietly.

"Your methods are unorthodox, strict and offer near impossible standards, they will adapt and learn from you, as I have done," she replied, forthright as always.

"Thank you for the compliment and your loyalty, I couldn't have achieved any of this without your help," he confessed. He smiled cheerfully, "Now I suppose I'd better get some rest before the shift, it wouldn't do to be a mess for my first real job."

She raised her eyebrow at him in acknowledgement, he loved that eyebrow. He kissed it tenderly, then left.

  
  


He arrived early for his shift and was briefed by the Captain. "It is quiet, but there is a dust cloud within a light year of the course, it is not impossible something may come out of it. If there is a problem you will not engage it without obtaining my permission," she rammed the point home pointedly, "I don't want a running war."

"Ma'am!" He replied, implying he wouldn't dream of such an action.

Silently the rest of his shift gathered, he examined them carefully, looking for any fault. They had gone to town preparing for their new shift commander.

"Not bad," he commended them, "Except for Mr Carver, who appears to be growing a beard."

Carvers hand shot up and felt his smooth skin looking for any stubble and found none. 

"Allow me," the Colonel interrupted, a razor sharp knife appeared in the Colonel's hand and flashed past his cheek. 

"I was referring to these," he announced, handing the alarmed ensign two hairs that had been missed.

"I'll let it go this time, but I might not next time," he warned.

Carver snapped to attention, "Thank you Sir," he snapped.

"Sir, will do Ensign," the Colonel remarked quietly, "The rest is superfluous.".

Louder he announced to the whole shift, "You all know I'm a mad bastard. You now know I pick up on very small details, even two small blonde hairs on a fair skinned man. Consider it your first lesson, it will stand you in good stead. Should you ever reach Captain it may even keep you alive. Should you ever be in an unfortunate situation, catching the smallest detail, a lick of the lips, a blink, could be the difference between success and failure! When it comes you must act immediately and instinctively. I'll give you thirty seconds to take the station of your choice, I'll move you around later."

The Captain had watched the spectacle with a mixture of disbelief and amusement, they had gone to extreme lengths to match the Colonels stated requirements, yet he had managed to find a flaw to allow him to make a point. She wondered why, she pulled him aside.

"Could I find a fault in your preparations?" She asked quietly.

"You may inspect if you wish Ma'am," he intoned impassively.

She did, minutely, from his glass polished shoes, to the peak of his hat, but failed to find a fault. The shift watched her inspect him and nudged each other and winked, the Colonel might set the standards he wanted, but he was also prepared to meet them himself.

"I give in," she declared after five minutes, "I can't find a fault, is there one?"

"Not one I am aware of Ma'am," he agreed happily.

She shook her head as she left him to it, the last thing she heard as she entered the lift was him announcing, 'Let us begin at the basics Ladies and Gentleman. This ship, it's crew, it's abilities, strengths and weaknesses'. It was going to be a murderous Watch to serve in, she decided, it was going to require close watching. She made a mental note to ensure Seven of Nine kept her informed of what occurred.

  
  


For two weeks the senior officers kept a close track of the Dog Watch's progress. From Seven of Nines reports, they knew it's members were going through a whole raft of tactical situations and response drillings. Some were Star Fleet inspired, some came from the watch itself, but most of them were coming from the Colonel, as he pushed himself and them to meet the standards he had set for them. There had been requests entered in the logs for assistance in testing ideas that had come from their scenarios, so far they had not been tested. The watch members were also visibly changing in confidence and appearance, they were now always perfectly dressed and polite, especially crewman Winston. 

They also noted he was using anything they encountered on their flight to highlight and help prove points, even, they found out with some alarm, deviating from their prescribed course to test a sensor modification in a gas cloud.

"Get him up here!" The Captain fumed, when Seven of Nine had informed them of the change in flight path.

He entered the Committee Room at the double, slamming to attention, and cracking a salute. "Colonel Samuels, reporting as ordered Ma'am," he announced smartly, then gazed fixedly at the wall behind her.

"Who gave permission for you to deviate from course and enter a gas cloud?" She demanded, anger rising.

"I did Ma'am," he admitted.

"I gave instructions that I was to be asked if there was a deviation, did I not?" She raged, anger still bubbling.

"No Ma'am," he answered calmly, "You stated your permission should be sought before engaging a threat. There was no danger and the potential benefit from the tests were sufficient to warrant the thirty minute detour, I consulted Miss Seven of Nine, Ensign Carver and Crewman Winston closely before sanctioning the action," he continued doggedly.

Her jaw dropped in shock. "You consulted a crewman?" She snarled at him, the rest of the meeting blanching at her anger.

"Before Crewman Winston was demoted his rank was Lieutenant Commander. His records show he was a capable Science Officer with particular knowledge on the subject of plasma clouds and nebula's," the Colonel pointed out, unperturbed by the Captains anger.

She sagged in defeat at the implacable Colonels attitude. 

"If it happens again I'll have you in the Brig permanently," she announced determined not to let him get away free.

"Very good Ma'am," he announced flatly, "I will note your change in instructions."

"What was the result of the test?" Tuvok asked, attempting to improve the atmosphere.

"The sensors will now have a forty percent improved resolution in gas clouds," announced Seven, "We believe it may give the ability to detect cloaked vessels, in certain circumstances," she added. 

The meeting finished uncomfortably.

"Why are you still here," the Captain asked the Colonel hotly, he was still at attention and gazing at the wall, as he had been when he entered the room.

"I have not been dismissed Ma'am," he pointed out.

She shook her head wearily, she didn't need this. "Get out of my sight," she hissed quietly.

"Ma'am," he confirmed, saluting, he performed a crisp quarter turn and marched out at the double.

"Seven I want a word with you," the Captain informed the uncomfortable ex-borg.

"Captain," she responded, her loyalty was being stretched between the Captain and the Colonel, it was difficult to decide upon who's side she should be on.

"Why did you let him do it?" The Captain asked her bluntly, "You knew you would have to report it and I would be angry."

"The rules you gave him were as he stipulated and there was no danger in his actions. You also stated a belief he should command a star ship, he demonstrated an ability to do so. You are now criticising the fact that he has carried out the duties that you particularly wished him to perform, Why? He has entered requests for testing in the log for actions that require a degree of risk, you have read them and have chosen to ignore them for unexplained reasons. Why? This was a theory that could be tested without risk or delay, he chose to carry it out rather than have the opportunity missed," Seven argued back.

"Because he has an untrained crew, the next time it might be dangerous," The Captain exclaimed in exasperation at Seven's attitude, her anger rising again.

"He will not allow the ship to enter a dangerous situation, and he had three crew members with experience, Ensign Carver, Crewman Winston and myself," Seven protested vehemently.

"I think you are letting your faith in the Colonel and his limited abilities cloud your judgement," hissed the Captain, "You are relieved from the watch, I will have Chakotay take your place."

"You are allowing your belief that his abilities and methods are inferior because they are different, to cloud yours," Seven fired back, she knew the Colonel's wouldn't allow himself to argue back like this, but also knew it needed to be said.

"You've gone too far young lady," the Captain screamed, "You are confined to quarters, until I decide what to do. Dismissed!"

Seven of Nine turned on her heel and left, head high.

The Colonel was back on the Bridge inside twenty minutes and in blistering mood. "Permission to see the Captain, Commander?" He snapped.

"She's in the Ready Room cooling off, will it wait?" Chakotay asked, noting the state of agitation that the Colonel was in.

"No Sir!" he announced sharply, "But you may wish Lieutenant Tuvok to attend with a security team. The meeting will be stormy whatever state the Captain is in."

Chakotay nodded. "I'll see if she will talk with you, but I'll tell you now she confined Seven of Nine to quarters for insubordination. It is not your place to argue over the decision."

"We'll see sir," he replied evenly, "It is my place if the insubordination was due to my actions."

"Chakotay to Captain," Chakotay announced on his communicator, he wasn't risking the ire of the Captain in a face to face encounter.

"Janeway here, bring him in," came a resigned reply.

Together they entered the Captains room.

"I will not let her off for her comments Colonel," She announced sharply, as he slammed to attention in the room.

"And I will not leave until I receive an explanation as to your actions, Ma'am, punishing one of my team instead of the perpetrator," he answered flatly, "I have a young woman in tears downstairs for doing what I should have done, but my honour and regulations prevents me from doing."

"You didn't and she did," she stormed at him.

"Permission to speak freely Ma'am?" He snapped, wary of the rules he might trample on. 

She nodded her acceptance.

"It is my belief that she pointed out that you have a different approach to training than I," he announced, "It is true, they are very different and I warned you that the differences may be difficult to accept. I also understand that my methods are having a beneficial effect?"

"Damn you, they are," she admitted crestfallen.

"Then her comments may be justified Ma'am?" He asked gently, forcing his anger down.

The Captain sat on her seat and considered her argument with the headstrong Seven of Nine, finally she looked up, "You are correct," she admitted weakly, "You may release her," she added.

"No Ma'am, you confined her, you must release her," the Colonel responded evenly, "She respects you and I would not like the situation to change, if at all avoidable."

"Very well, but I stand by what I said earlier," she agreed, "You will not deviate from course except in emergency. You will not carry out un-approved tests and Chakotay will act as the training councillor in Sevens place."

"Ma'am," intoned the relieved Colonel, "Request that our requests for test validation are acted upon, or at least a better explanation than 'It won't work' be given. I've taught my people that that particular phrase is often used incorrectly."

"Very well, I'll let Seven test them for you on the Holodecks, any that won't destroy the ship and may have a beneficial effect I shall test for you when convenient," she agreed slowly.

"Thank you Ma'am," he announced, saluted smartly and left.

"I'd better go and release her," she announced to Chakotay after a few minutes reflection and left the room.

The Colonel opened the door of their quarters for her. As usual he snapped to attention and saluted her, then stepped out of the room to give the Captain privacy. She looked at the red eyed woman in shock, she had never seen her in that state before.

"You were right," she confessed quietly to Seven, "I did allow myself to become jealous over his training methods and they're success. I let myself strike out at somebody else rather than take him on directly. It was an unpardonable mistake, for which I apologise. I should not have put you in a position that forced you to divide your loyalties."

"The apology is acceptable Captain," Seven spoke haltingly, "I must apologise for my statements, I allowed myself to become angry when you criticised his actions. He was prepared to accept them, I should have done so as well. It will not happen again," she affirmed.

  
  


Chakotay took Sevens place on the Dog Watch with some trepidation. He knew from Sevens reports that the watch was worked hard, he hadn't realised how hard. 

It started off amicably enough, the Colonel introduced a scenario, described the objective distinctly, then they started off analysing the tactical situation and the capabilities of the respective sides. It continued onto possible actions and reactions, the Colonel throwing in spoilers at suitable points, to force them to amend their reactions. When they finally came to a conclusion the watch presented it to Chakotay to inspect for fault, he couldn't find one. 

The Colonel set them off again on another scenario, this they worked in pairs it wasn't discussed, they didn't have time, as they attempted to outwit the scenario's twisted plot in real time. Only when the scenario was finished did he give them time to review their decisions. In this case both teams had lost, but they gamely went over their actions and again came to a solution using the two attempts as a guide. Again the solutions were offered to Chakotay to inspect, he found it difficult to find the faults in the original attempts.

He was impressed, "Do all the shifts work like this?" He asked Ensign Carver who was standing next to him at the Comm's station.

"No sir, sometimes they are much more difficult," the ensign replied disarmingly.

"A vessel has just entered long range sensors," announced Ensign Torick from Tactical.

"Identify please Ensign," the Colonel instructed.

"Tactical suggests a high probability of a Borg cube, two additional vessels have now appeared, they are on an intercept course," the ensign commentated.

"What have we got to hide behind or in please Crewman Winston," the Colonel asked calmly.

"I have a nebula to the right and below Sir, 60 minutes at current velocity" he advised quickly.

"Very good, set course please. Do it quietly then they may miss us."

"Vessels confirmed as three Borg Cubes, Colonel," Torick was trying to be impassive as the Colonel, "Intercept in 60 minutes."

"Engage adaptive shielding, sound yellow alert, disable active sensors, we'll try and look like the rest of the sky," fired the Colonel, "Crewman Winston, increase velocity to Warp 5, but do it slowly so we don't light the sky. Ensign Torrick prepare solution for 'FireStorm'."

Hitting his own communicator he intoned, "Captain to the Bridge immediate."

He stood from the chair he was sitting in, "My compliments Commander, your seat I believe," he announced, moving to the Ops station.

"What is 'FireStorm' Colonel?" Asked the puzzled Chakotay.

"It was one of the ideas we put into the logs for testing, look it up," he suggested, "We believe that using the gases in a Nebula we can destroy a major hostile battle fleet, but it is a risky manoeuvre, if our timing is out then we go to," he confessed, "If those bastards see us then we may need to test it the hard way."

The Captain charged onto the bridge, "Report!" She demanded.

"Three Borg cubes confirmed on intercept course spotted 10 minutes ago Ma'am. Estimated intercept just under one hour, no scans yet detected from enemy vessels. Adaptive shielding engaged, speed increased and course adjusted to allow us to hide in a nebula, entry anticipated approximately 50 minutes. Options being calculated for combat solution, Commander Chakotay is reviewing them," he rattled off quickly and concisely.

"How do you expect us to take on three Borg cubes?" She demanded, "It is well beyond even your abilities as a soldier," She added, cynicism overcoming her.

"By destroying the bastards before they shoot back," the Colonel announced, "And we have a solution available that we believe will work, but it hasn't been tested yet, we entered it as a request in the logs," he pointed out calmly.

"Chakotay, your opinions?" Captain snapped at her number two.

"The watch has responded to the situation perfectly, as well as we would," he answered stoutly, "How many times have you tested this 'Fire Storm' solution Colonel?" He continued.

"We've simulated it six times Sir, we've survived the last three," he replied .

"The Borg have spotted us Captain," Ensign Kim announced, he and the rest of the prime deck crew had taken their places as the Captain and Colonel had faced each other, "They have altered course for direct intercept."

"Tuvok re-modulate shields," she snapped to the Security Officer.

"Confirmed Captain, but they know we are here, they will find the frequency again inside a couple of minutes," he affirmed.

"Perhaps they will not follow us into the Nebula," she remarked hopefully.

"If they detect us when we enter, they will follow," Seven of Nine announced as she stepped nervously onto the Bridge, "The Fire Storm scenario is the only logical solution that will counter the threat, if it materialises," she added.

"Tuvok, analysis of this Fire Storm scenario," the Captain asked, she vaguely recalled reading it in the logs and dismissing it as too dangerous.

"The solution like many of the Colonels ideas, is unconventional and dangerous," Tuvok announced at last, reviewing the logs, "The process involves the concentration of gases and their ignition using an adapted torpedo, effectively forming a mini supernova. The danger lies in escaping the blast, to create the required concentration the ship must lay well within the affected zone of the resultant explosion, the hazard zone will be extensive," he described, "Chances of survival are low if the timing is inaccurate."

"They've detected us again," announced Kim.

"The Borg have locked to our remodulator frequencies," announced Seven from the Science Station, "We will enter the Nebula in approximately fifteen minutes, Borg interception in 22," she affirmed

"But non-existent if the Borg catch us," the Colonel commented, "Please Captain, If they get aboard you know I'll fight them to my dying breath, but we will lose. My Watch can do what we claim!" He pleaded.

The Captain considered her options carefully. "Very well, we'll do it your way," she agreed slowly, "But only if they try to follow us into the Nebula!" She added forcefully.

"Thank you Ma'am," he answered, "Request my Watch return to their stations?" He asked smartly saluting, "They know what to do when required," he explained quickly.

She nodded.

"Dog Watch, take your stations," he barked, "Crewman Winston, foot on the floor please, Ensign Kala, reinforce structural integrity, Ensign Torrick, load our torpedo in the tubes, Miss Nine, prepare the deflector for deployment, Ensign Carver, plot course for minimum involvement with the Nebula, I want a clean getaway," his orders snapped the watch to their stations, the Captain watched the flurry of activity with growing interest.

"Bridge to Engineering," he called.

"Torres here," answered Torres immediately.

"My compliments Lieutenant," he greeted her, "I may be doing some unpleasant things to your engines, it is important that I have full power available when I need it," he advised.

"Captain?" Torres questioned.

"Do as he requests Lieutenant," the Captain answered quickly.

"I'm on it," Torres announced.

The Colonel moved to stand next to Seven of Nine. "Can you manage okay?" he asked gently, concerned for her conflicting fear and attraction for her previous existence, "If they get aboard I'll protect you, but this is the only way I can protect you and have you survive!" He added quietly.

"I shall perform my duty," she vowed, but her nerves were catching up with her.

He kissed her tenderly on the forehead, "I know!" He agreed.

He turned back to the Bridge, taking a place behind the rail at the back. "Are we ready to toast the Borg?" he called, stirring up the passions.

"Aye Sir!" Came the chorus from the watch.

"I can't here you!" He shouted.

"Aye Sir! Yes Sir," They shouted back at him, with gusto. It took the Captain by surprise, she glared at the Colonel, he smiled back at her. 

"Good. Just remember our simulations and do just as we discussed. Do it right and dinners on me," he announced.

Tuvok sidled up behind the Colonel, "Why the melodramatics?" He asked quietly.

"How many reasons do you want?" The Colonel replied, "I want them fired up to do their duty, you've commented that timing is everything. They are nervous, the professionals are watching them, they don't want to fail the ship or die. The 'melodramatics' as you put it will help them forget their nerves, concentrate minds and remind them they are a team and must work together."

The ship groaned and shook as they entered the Nebula, automatically losing warp speed. "Entering the Nebula now Sir, correcting course, full impulse power," announced Crewman Winston.

"Very good, keep your foot on the floor," encouraged the Colonel, "Ensign Carver?"

"Sensors at maximum, course corrections complete, estimated exit fifteen minutes," he affirmed.

"Carry on," he affirmed.

"The Borg have not slowed," piped Torrick, "They will enter the Nebula in seven minutes," she advised.

"Structural integrity 95%, reinforcing, Shields at full. Enhancing sensors," advised Ensign Kala.

"Bridge to Engineering, any chance of a little more oomph from Impulse?" The Colonel asked hopefully, "I'd like a little more than seven minutes start if possible," he added.

"Working on it, wait," replied B'Elanna from her station in Engineering.

They waited in silence, the Captain nervous at the sudden lack of activity, looked around at the Colonel who was standing impassively, hands behind his back. He gave her a brief smile of encouragement.

Finally they shot out of the Nebulas cloud. "Velocity increasing," announced Winston.

"Miss Nine, timings please," demanded the Colonel.

"Rotation required in 12 seconds," she answered and started to countdown.

"Disengage drive," ordered the Colonel as the count reached five, "Rotate 180 degrees," he spat as the count zeroed. 

Automatic warnings sounded announcing danger as Voyager rotated on it's axis without changing direction, then settled pointing back the way they had come.

"Turn those bloody alarms off!" Demanded the Colonel.

"Sorry Sir," apologised Ensign Kala, "Structural integrity 80%, still reinforcing, deploying Emergency power."

"Ship rotated and steadied," confirmed Winston.

"Collector deployed and active," affirmed Seven automatically, "Critical concentration estimated 5 minutes."

"Borg cubes are still inbound," Torrick commented calmly from her station.

"Very good," the Colonel reaffirmed, then snapped to attention again, "Permission to complete firing solution and engage the enemy, Ma'am?" He enquired smartly.

She started, she had been mesmerised by the level of calm action occurring around her, and the ship was now travelling backwards at almost full impulse speed, a feat that she had always considered impossible, "Why do you need my permission? It's your operation," she asked pointedly.

"Negative Ma'am," he responded, "Regulations state that only the senior officer on a warship may sanction the firing of live weapons. You also placed stipulations on the execution of the actions, we need your permission to fire Ma'am."

"Your Queens regulations again?" she queried.

"I looked up the rules for the Royal Navy," he affirmed with a smile.

"Gas concentration now at 90% of nominal," reported Seven of Nine calmly from her station.

"Borg vessels are in fatal zone," announced Torrick

"Nominal torpedo firing time in 10," Sevens statements crossing Torricks, she started a countdown.

"Captain?" The Colonel asked quickly.

"Fire as required," the Captain ordered, grateful that the final fire order had been handed to her.

"Ma'am," The Colonel announced, "Release from countdown, disengage collector," he ordered.

"Torpedo away, flight time 20 seconds. Counting, Torpedo is running true" affirmed Torrick.

"Rotate ship to course, maximum warp as we bear, floor it please Mr Winston," ordered the Colonel.

"Sir," Winston replied instantly.

"All hands brace for impact," Chakotay announced over the ships comm.

Voyager leapt into warp drive,

"We have detonation," advised Torrick.

"Secondary detonation in progress, estimated shock wave impact level eight in thirty seconds," announced Seven of Nine, taking over.

"Shields at full, integrity enhanced," claimed Kala.

"This is where it gets bumpy," commented the Colonel, "Mr Winston, Ensign Carver prepare for corrective action, try to ride the wave like we did in the simulations. Helm over thirty degrees, if we are going to be pushed we might as well go in the right general direction," he added calmly.

"Captain, look the Borg cubes," gasped Kim, they all turned their attention to the view screen as the explosion they had set off enveloped the Borg. Silently they watched as first one disintegrated, a second burst into flame then exploded a moment later, the third also blossomed into a huge fireball and careered after them, obviously out of control.

"It'll catch us," Paris stated.

"No it won't," the Colonel refuted, "Crewman Winston, watch your instruments. Captain, permission to fire second torpedo, if the vessel enters range?"

Dumbly she nodded.

Suddenly the cube exploded incandescently, momentarily blinding them. The Fire Storm shockwave hit Voyager five seconds later, tumbling the ship and crew. The Colonel immediately leapt to catch Seven of Nine as she fell towards him, they landed heavily on the floor, him underneath. Winston was thrown heavily from his seat as he and Carver struggled to regain control, crashing into the console as he was thrown around. Paris struggled into his place and grappled with the controls.

Conditions quietened down again as the wave receded and they regained their composure. The Colonel picked himself up and checked Seven of Nine carefully. "I am undamaged," she assured him dispassionately.

"Good," he announced, feeling a sharp pain in his ribs, "I'll check Winston, you take a look at Torrick."

"Damage report?" snapped the Captain.

"Coming in," Chakotay commented, "Fourteen injured, warp drive is off-line, emergency power is on and stable, a breach on deck 13, some dents, but nothing serious, Damage Control is responding" he continued.

The Colonel was kneeling by Crewman Winston, examining him carefully. "Doctor to the Bridge, medical emergency," he called, "Mr Paris your assistance, I think he has a broken back," he announced.

"You took your eye of the ball," he chided, "Now lay perfectly still."

"I'm sorry Sir," whispered the Crewman, "I didn't catch the wave properly," he made it sound like a failure.

The Colonel gripped his hand, "Hush," he said, "There is a limit to the number of impossible things that can be done in a day," he confided.

"Even for you Sir?" Inquired Ensign Kala, kneeling to assist Tom Paris.

"The only impossible thing about me Ensign," he started, "Is my inability to accept that the impossible exists at all! Now I think you have a medical bent, the Doctor will be pleased, go with Mr Winston and look after him," he announced as he moved out of the way for the Doctor to tend the patient.

He stood up and quoted solemnly, "The Lord be near us, strong to save, for those in peril upon the sea." 

He turned to the Captain, "Permission to relieve the Watch, Ma'am?" He asked.

She nodded, "I want a full debrief, there are things that need to be examined in that operation," she smiled, relieved it was over. 

"What was the prayer you quoted?" Chakotay asked.

"It's from the Naval Hymn Sir, it seemed appropriate both for us and those poor bastards we destroyed," he stated.

"You would pray for the Borg?" Kim asked incredulously.

"They are enemies, odious and malevolent, but it shouldn't stop us from offering forgiveness for their souls when they are defeated," the Colonel stated quietly.

"You believe that?" The Captain asked sharply.

"Yes Ma'am, I do, otherwise what makes us better than them?" he answered quickly.

She shook her head, "Seven take him to the Doctor, get him to fix the chest he is holding," she commanded, "Then get him to go to bed and rest, you to," she added remembering how recalcitrant over and freely they interpreted such orders. 

"Captain," Seven of Nine responded.

  
  


"How is Crewman Winston, Doctor?" The Colonel asked as was ushered into the Sick Bay by the intent Seven of Nine.

"He is stable and asleep, I have erected a total restraining field around him. He'll live, I'll operate tomorrow," announced the Doctor.

"And Ensign Kala?" he enquired further.

"She is not injured," the Doctor replied.

"Not being stupid, I am aware of that," the Colonel pointed out, "But either she has developed particular feelings for Crewman Winston, or she has an exceptional grasp of first aid. Either way it should be encouraged I think. Lets face it, she's a lot better looking than Tom Paris!" He suggested.

The Doctor nodded at the suggestion, "I shall try her with some simple medical duties," he announced.

"Good, Mr Paris will be pleased. Now about my broken ribs?" The Colonel announced.

"I'll be the judge of that," the Doctor announced, running his tricorder over the Colonels chest, "You have two broken ribs and some bruising," he agreed.

"You don't say," sighed the Colonel.

"Patients are imprecise and they are often wrong," the Doctor muttered defensively, "How did you break them?"

"Miss Nine landed on me in the shock wave. Not an unpleasant experience, but could be done less painfully," he quipped loud enough for her to hear, she coloured.

"You will be glad to know you will also live," announced the Doctor, "Just don't go swinging through the rafters after her," he added. "I'll get Ensign Kala to run a regenerator over your bruises."

"That won't be necessary Doctor, bruising I can live with, thank you," the Colonel replied levelly, "Not only that I think we might make Miss Nine jealous," he whispered conspiratorially.

"Miss Nine, I believe we are under orders to proceed to quarters to rest until summoned," he commented as they left Sick Bay.

"You are correct," she agreed solemnly, "I have some bruising you should attend to."

"That's funny, so have I. Let's compare notes, your shoulder against my chest?" He suggested.

"That will be acceptable, I also have other bruises you will treat," she announced, taking his arm and leading him away.

"Your not trying to tease me into reaction again are you?" He asked as they entered their quarters, "I really ache too much to respond properly," he commented, as she helped him out of his shirt and jacket, then started to gently kiss the big bruise on his chest.

"I require assistance, with my fastenings," she announced, "I am unable to reach."

He sighed as he gently released the zip on her back. "One day very soon, I'm going to make you regret this teasing," he suggested, as he helped her out of her clothing.

"I will look forward to it," she announced happily pulling him down onto the bed for serious 'treatment' and canoodling.

  
  


"Your assessments of the Fire Storm manoeuvre?" The Captain demanded at her debriefing the following day.

"It was tremendously effective," announced Ensign Kim enthusiastically, "It would be impossible to deal with three hostile vessels at once."

"It is highly dangerous," disputed Tuvok dispassionate as always, "Any error in execution would render it useless or destroy the ship."

"Turning the ship around and allowing the ship to drift backwards at high speed, that is impossible according to the manuals," added Tom Paris.

"It's not a trick I would like to perform again in a hurry," commented Chakotay with feeling.

"Nor would I," snapped the Captain, "Unless we had to. Anything else before I sum up for the logs?"

"Permission to speak Ma'am?" The Colonel interjected.

"You don't normally ask," she responded directly.

"You normally ask, if you think I may have a valid comment, and it seems that my watch is on trial for its' solutions," the Colonel pointed out.

She nodded reluctantly, "You're not on trial," she avowed with a sigh, "But go ahead," she agreed.

"First, I'd like to thank you for allowing my watch to carry out the manoeuvre, I believe they responded perfectly," he started, "I request you ensure those comments are recorded in your log."

The Captain nodded.

"As for the assessment of the operation. It was a high risk strategy, it was not impossible that it could have blown the whole nebula sky high, with what ever long range effects that may have. It required several things to succeed, very careful pre-planning and rehearsal, a suitable gas cloud or nebula and a certain disregard for normal rules. As such I would not recommend it as a repetitive operation. It works as a guerilla trap, carefully planned and executed, but not as a combat manoeuvre dreamed up at the spur of the moment in battle," he continued.

"There was one mistake, and it put the ship in unnecessary danger. We failed to reach the ideal position to mount and ride the shock wave. Part of that error was due to Crewman Winston watching what was happening out the windows not his instruments, for which he has paid. Most of it was mine for trying to change position to use the wave to push us on our correct course. The error permitted the wave to hit us on a quarter and caused excessive damage to the ship. I formally accept responsibility for the error and await your decision upon the matter, Ma'am," he completed.

They stared at him open mouthed. 

"I think the Colonel summed the operation up perfectly," announced the Captain, "I will place the whole thing in the logs, with particular mentions for the Dog Watch. I think I will name it the Samuels' Gambit," she held up her hand to prevent the inevitable protest from the Colonel, "The Dog Watch will continue, but I am going to change the brief, I want it to become a 'Think Tank' for developing more solutions to possible scenario's. Meeting dismissed," she finished strongly.

As the others trooped out, she called, "Colonel a moment please."

"One day I am going to take you up on your offer of jailing yourself and I'll screw your balls to the wall, I'll make the decision when you've gone too far, not you," she stated forcefully.

"Yes Ma'am!" He announced happily, "As long as you realise I will accept your decision over my actions, but not against the people who respond to my orders," he added mildly.

She laughed at him. "I've been underestimating you for too long."

"Ma'am?" he questioned.

"I'm getting wise to you, Alan Samuels!" She warned, 

"You're not nearly as tough as you seem, are you? It's all an act, you use it to divert peoples attention from something you don't want them to see. You have an insecurity and it's hurting you. What is it?" She challenged.

He seemed to shrink in front of her. "You wouldn't believe me if I told you Ma'am," he whispered, his voice so low she strained to hear.

"Go on," she prompted quietly, surprised at the sudden change in events.

"It's something I've learned to cope with since childhood, if I hadn't I'd have died long ago. Seven is close to finding out, she keeps picking away at it and I don't know how to stop her!" He announced.

"What is it? Is it dangerous to the ship or crew?" She demanded, anxious now.

"No Ma'am," he responded stoutly, "It's my loyalty to the ship and it's crew that keep it in check and for the same reasons that I joined and stayed in the army."

"What is it? Tell me?" She ordered, certain now there was a problem, the meeting was proving uncomfortable for something that had started off so light hearted.

"Please Captain, don't order me to tell!" he pleaded, she could see tears forming.

"I want to know, now?" She demanded again, "We're not leaving until you tell me!"

He took a last desperate pleading look in her face, then buried his face in his hands. "I'm shy," he gulped. 

She gazed at him in amazement, "That's not serious," she commented, surprised by the admission, it didn't seem to meet the reactions.

"You don't understand Captain, perhaps shy doesn't describe it properly," he gasped, "I am mind numbingly petrified of people or things I don't understand. If it weren't for my duty and the Regulations I live with, you wouldn't get me in the same room as you, let alone talk. As for Miss Nine I wouldn't go within a thousand miles of her, I'd be too terrified. It's only when I have a mission, a goal, anything to focus my attention, that I can ignore my fear," he gurgled in his despair. 

"Poor Miss Nine, I loved her so much, I'd almost completed the door to let her in!" he made a last heart rending gasp and collapsed on the floor. He twitched into a foetal position then lay deathly still.

The Captain stood back aghast at the turn of events. Automatically she hit her communicator, "Doctor to the Conference Room, Medical Emergency," she called. 

Kneeling beside the prostrate and unconscious Colonel she checked for a pulse, relieved she found it, but it seemed dangerously weak and irregular.

The Doctor burst into the room with Tom Paris on his heels, they stood dumbfounded at the spectacle.

"What happened?" the Doctor demanded as he knelt beside the Colonel, "There is nothing physically wrong."

The Captain breathed deeply several times before trusting her response. "I think I've just broken him and that iron will of his," she gulped desperately, turning quickly to the window she grabbed at the sill to preventing herself from collapsing.

"Stimulants quickly, then beam him to Sick Bay," the doctor prescribed. 

He turned to the Captain, "I wish to examine you?" he asked.

She took another deep breath, "I'll be fine, it was just the shock, just give me a minute," she gasped.

Unsteadily she walked onto the Bridge, "Chakotay, bring Seven to my Ready Room, but give me five minutes first," she croaked, her voice hoarse from the strain of control.

The rest of the Bridge watched her stagger to the Ready Room in stunned silence.

She slumped on a chair despairingly wondering what she was going to tell Seven of Nine.

Seven entered at high speed followed almost as quickly by Chakotay. "The Colonel is damaged, I wish to see him, they will not let me," she announced abruptly.

The Captain nodded unhappily, "Seven, please sit down I have some bad news," she started.

"I prefer to stand," she commented.

"You will need to sit," the Captain advised.

Seven took a long look at her Captain, then sat quietly and waited.

"The Colonel and I had a discussion," she started slowly, swallowing hard, "It started with me teasing him, but it ended with me making him confess to something that he is ashamed of and has hidden nearly all his life. The shock of the admission made him collapse. Seven I'm dreadfully sorry, I think he was close to the point of admitting it to you, his last words were 'Poor Miss Nine, I loved her so much, I'd almost completed the door to let her in', if he had, it would have been without the repercussions" she swallowed again.

"Captain?" Seven asked quietly.

The Captain continued "When you started to look after him, you told me that his life had been harder than Borg assimilation, I didn't believe it possible when I thought of the pain I put you through to bring you back," 

She continued quickly, "But I don't think even you have realised half the pain he feels, just facing people. You said that he won't let you do anything for him, you are wrong, you have been his reason to live, because we couldn't or wouldn't give him what he needed, he's taken it occasionally but he feels guilty for it, that's why he offers himself for reprimand after almost every action." 

Her enlightened confessions started to flow freely but less ordered, "He seemed so strong, but it was all a mask to hide the pain he is in. It seems strong because he's been using it for so long. He still thinks you are too good for him. We need to decide what to do with him, if he recovers, he may be very different to the man you loved. I may have killed him, I'm so very sorry, I thought I'd got a handle on him, but it snapped off" she finished lamely, not daring to look the younger woman in the face.

Seven stood up, "I will see him now!" she demanded.

"Captain, please come to the Sick bay immediately," the Doctors voice sounded over the intercom interrupting the Captains reply, "The Colonel is asking for you and Seven."

"We'll go together, Chakotay," the Captain announced, swallowing hard.

"I don't know what's wrong with him," the Doctor greeted them with his concerns, "There is enough stimulants in his body to have the dead waltzing the light fantastic, but they're not working, it's almost as though he's shutting himself down."

"It's all right Doctor," the Chakotay comforted him as best he could, whilst the two women approached the dying Colonel. 

He was still twisted in pain, the Doctor had straightened him, but the moment he had been released he curled into a ball again. Gently they dug out and held his hands.

"Please Captain, Seven, release me!" He whispered.

"Release you from what?" the Captain asked, genuinely confused.

"Release me!" He hissed again.

"What's he want releasing from?" The Captain asked the Doctor as he entered the room.

"Captain," A voice from behind interrupted them, they turned to find Winston on a second couch, "Don't you see, you've questioned the reasons behind his loyalty, and admit the one thing he's ashamed of," he pointed out, "You've ripped everything from under him, his pride, honour, duty, dignity, everything. He wants you to give him permission to die with what little he has left!" he exclaimed.

"What makes you say that?" The Captain asked sharply.

"I asked him why he seemed so sympathetic to my situation and why it wouldn't be an option for him. I know what it's like to lose a command and be demoted, it hurts those core beliefs you live by," Winston explained, "His whole life stands on them. He told me that if he was in my situation, the only option, for him, would be to 'blow his brains out', simply because he had failed in his duty and broken his honour. For a man like that, to have them snatched away from him is the equivalent of one of us stepping into space without a suit, fatal. He can't live without them, because it's all he's got. You couldn't kill him more certainly by strapping him to a torpedo and firing it at the Borg."

"I can't give an order to him to die!" She exclaimed, "Seven?"

"Captain, he has helped me more than anybody else on the ship to come to terms with both what I was and what I have become," Seven replied earnestly, "He has taught me to interact with the crew casually, he has shown me emotions that are pleasurable, the meaning of true friendship, love and the protection and comfort that they bring and many other things that I had believed impossible. I do not wish him die, I wish him to be mine. I wish to save him, I will do whatever is necessary to do so."

"I never taught you how to say goodbye. It was another mistake!" The Colonels whisper came through to haunt them.

They turned back to him. The Captain cleared her throat, there appeared to be a lump in it.

"You want orders, I'll give you orders," she snarled hoarsely, "You will fully recover, you will return to your duties as I demand, you will surrender yourself to Seven of Nine in any form she deems fit and you will stop this nonsense," she finished, pleading desperately.

She saw him mouth move, but no sound came out.

"That's showing him," commented Winston wryly from his bed, "The Colonel achieves the impossible on a daily basis just so he can live, but those orders will require something in the order of a miracle. Can you do it Captain? You broke his will!" He taunted.

"He has returned to a coma, Captain," advised the Doctor, she nodded and beckoned him to follow.

"There is nothing in the databanks to cover this situation," the Doctor confessed, guessing what was to come, "Any instability like this would have been traced at the academy, I cannot do anything except keep his body alive for a while. But what if he recovers, what state will he be in?"

The Captains reply was worse than he had thought possible. 

"He's hidden it all his life, it's never shown on anything. As for his mind, we'll deal with it when we have to," she snarled, " I don't care what you try, but you will try anything and everything, the simple, the obvious, the difficult, the impossible, voodoo, witchcraft, Seven raping him in front of the crew, I don't care. That man is not dying of shame on this vessel, because I was so stupid that I couldn't believe he had a weakness, we owe him too much to just let him go," she raged.

The hologram managed to swallow hard, "We could try a Vulcan Mind Meld, I don't approve of the mumbo-jumbo but there is nothing I can do," he admitted.

From inside the sick room came the sound of Seven of Nine singing softly.

The Captain nodded. "Tuvok to Sick Bay," she ordered on the intercom, then turned to comfort Seven of Nine.

"The Colonel believes that singing helps him concentrate," the desperate woman announced as the Captain took her hand, "He is unable to sing, perhaps mine will help him."

"I don't know many songs myself," the Captain claimed softly, "But if it helps, I'll sing with you," she promised.

Tuvok arrived five minutes later.

"The Captain would like you to try and help the Colonel in a mind meld," advised the Doctor, "If it's possible."

"It might, I will need time to prepare," announced Tuvok, "Advise the Captain I will be ready in forty minutes." He left again.

He returned as promised, to find the Captain and Seven still at their lonely vigil beside the Colonel.

"Captain I am ready," he announced.

She nodded and gently pulled Seven of Nine away as he got into position by the Colonels head. 

"I shall be keeping an eye on brain activity," interfered the Doctor.

"You will not interfere," Tuvok demanded sternly, "The subject will be difficult to interact with."

He started his procedure, "Your mind to my mind, my mind to your mind.."

In his mind he found himself in a small dark room, doors leading in all directions. He tried a door, it was locked, he tried another, this opened easily and he went through to find himself in another small room similar to the first. The door closed firmly behind him, he tried it and found it had locked itself. Given no option he carried on through doors that opened into more small rooms then locked themselves again. He lost track of distance and direction, until he came to the centre of the maze. It looked as though some form of structure had been there, it's ruins were clearly visible, brown and crumbling. Warily he examined them, they looked like iron and crumbled into dust at his touch. In the distance he saw a small figure, curled on the floor in a foetal position, it was rocking silently, seemingly in great pain. Black things, like bats, but with far to many claws to be real, were swooping at it. A feeble arm waved at them trying to keep them away. Cautiously he approached it, to find the Colonel. 

"Colonel I wish to assist you," he announced.

He ducked instinctively as the black creatures started to swoop at him as well. The Colonel's memories and fears, he suddenly realised, as he slapped at an impossible set of teeth. "You must resist the image," his Vulcan mind told him, "They can only hurt you if you think they are real!"

The figure sprang up in terror, it appeared small and feral, even given the nature of the mind meld to join the impressions of the two host minds, it shocked the implacable Vulcan.

"Keep away!" It screamed at him, "I can't go back."

"I will help you. I am a ship mate," Tuvok tried again, "I can help you," he coaxed, "Let me help you," he almost pleaded.

"Keep away," the little figure screamed again and ran, it collapsed within a few yards, screaming in pain as the black creatures attacked him again.

"Captain," announced the Doctor, "There was a major dip in his cerebral activity, this is killing him!"

Tuvok broke the link, and sat exhausted and shocked by what he had seen. "I cannot get near enough to him to help," he announced at length, "I'm sorry Captain, his mind is disintegrating and is under attack." He described his experiences and what he had seen to the appalled Captain.

The Captain took a deep breath, she had put a lot of hope on Tuvoks mind meld, she had seen it do wonders in similar situations, her hope now melted to nothing.

"There is somebody who could get to him Captain," Winstons voice gently prodded her.

She turned sharply towards him, he was getting on her nerves. "Who?" She demanded.

"She's standing right next to you," he answered, "If she's willing?"

"Captain, he is correct," Seven replied, the light of day dawning on her, "I have a defective Borg Cerebral Implant in Cargo Bay 2. It can be repaired and inserted in the Colonel. I may be able to get close enough to him. If used in the alcove it will not be dangerous," she claimed.

"Tuvok, Seven, get B'Elanna working on it!" The Captain demanded.

"Captain, your not going to suggest I implant a Borg device in the Colonel," the Doctor protested, "That would be going too far."

"You will," she announced heavily, "I'll turn your ethical routines off, if I have to."

"You can't there encrypted," he answered frantically.

"I may not, but I know somebody who can and he still doesn't like you, from when you tried to take the 'Colonels lady', how long do you think your encryption will stand against the Colonels Corporal," she threatened.

The Doctor visibly blanched, remembering his encounter with the infamous Corporal Miller, "I'll prepare for the operation, under protest. I will require Lieutenant Paris," he agreed moodily.

"Objection noted," the Captain hissed, returning to the Colonel's body.

  
  


"Are you sure you want to do this Seven?" asked Torres gently as she worked on the delicate instrument, "I know he's the most wonderful man in the galaxy and you love him for it, but it could be dangerous, one or other of you could be killed," she continued.

"He would do the same for me, or anybody else on the ship," Seven answered pointedly.

"That's the point," Torres fired back, "From what you've told me, his life depends upon you already, if you get hurt he will die."

"I must try!" Seven responded stubbornly.

"Okay!" she responded, "But I wouldn't be a friend if I didn't try to talk you out of it," she continued.

"The implant is ready, the frequencies have been modified to match yours," Torres announced, "If it's any help," she added gripping Sevens arm, "I really hope you get him back, you, the ship and the Captain need him."

Seven was moved by the sudden sentimental outburst. She managed a small smile, "Thank you, I will succeed," she vowed.

As the Doctor operated to insert the new device in the Colonels skull, Tuvok briefed Seven of Nine.

"I shall guide you to the location he was last in, if he is not there I will help you search, but I will not be able to approach him, it may not be wise for you to approach too close either," he announced.

"He will also appear very different to how you normally see him, it will be a combination of how he sees himself and your own interpretation, for me he appeared small and feral, like a large bald rat. The fears and memories that are attacking him, looked like black bats, but with claws and teeth. They cannot hurt you, unless you let them into your mind. You must block them out. It will be difficult, distressing and require remarkable patience," he confided, "It suggests his opinion of himself is almost non-existent, if it fails then he will die," his opinion seemed final.

"I wish you to succeed," he admitted quietly.

She raised her questioning eyebrow at him.

"His opinions and methods are unique and challenging, they are of great benefit to the ship and the crew," he confessed in answer to the implied question.

"We are ready," announced the Doctor, "I'm having him transported to the Cargo Bay now, I will try and keep him alive while you do what you need to do. Good luck," he commented, gripping Sevens arm.

"Be careful in there," the Captain advised, "I don't want to lose you as well. You don't have to go, we can find another way," she tried to soothe the worried girl.

"There is no other way," Seven announced calmly, "I am the only person who may be able to approach him. I want to go, I must go to him," she vowed, taking her position, next to her the Colonel was being strapped into an upright position in the second booth.

"Good luck, we're rooting for you," called the Captain as she activated Sevens alcove.

"Sevens ready," she announced.

"The Colonel is ready, Tuvoks just melding with him now," advised Chakotay.

"Every thing is stable," agreed the Doctor.

"Permission to pass the message Captain," a voice behind them stirred her to look around and down.

Naomi Wildman was standing by the console.

"What are you doing here?" The captain chided gently.

"I was sent by Lieutenant Torres, so that I could keep them informed and I wanted to wish Seven of Nine luck and give her my love," the girl replied earnestly.

"They're in Captain," announced the Doctor, "There was a blip in the readings. Two ghost minds are creating more of a reading than the one that ought to be there!"

"You here that Naomi," the Captain intoned, "You run back to Engineering and tell them, if they don't keep the power absolutely smooth, I'll make them get out and push the ship home, you can take the same message to the Bridge as well," she suggested with a smile.

"Yes Ma'am," the girl replied eagerly.

  
  


Seven of Nine and Tuvok took a moment to get their bearings, "This is not good," he commented looking around, "These rooms had locked and unlocked doors that close and lock after you, that is quite normal, now many of the doors are left open, I think we may be too late, we must hurry, follow me."

He led them at a quick pace through the maze of little rooms to the centre, the ruins had almost totally vanished. In the centre room still curled in a ball was the Colonel, he seemed bigger than he had been, but Tuvok expected that because of Seven of Nines influence. But the bats were still there, they dived at them in fury.

"I cannot go closer," he informed her, "When I withdraw his shape may change a little, but it will still not be pleasant, you must keep your interpretation of the Colonel in your mind, and you must ignore the flying creatures, they cannot hurt you. Failure in either will mean you will fail," he urged.

She nodded, worried by the small creature on the floor in front of her. Determinedly she blocked the revulsion forming in her mind at the sight of the flying creatures and the small figure of the Colonel and grasped here mental picture of the tall and proud man she loved. Cautiously she approached it until it sprang up, she stopped.

"I know you," it announced.

"You said you loved me, but wouldn't release me. Release me!" It pleaded in a pitiful voice.

Shocked she could only stand still as the figure curled into a ball again as the pain wracked through it and the black creatures resumed their attack.

"I still love you," she called softly, "I want you back, everybody wants you back," she crooned, she settled on the floor cross legged and waited. "Please come back to me," she called again.

"I can't," It cried, "I've nothing left to live with, won't you let me die?" it pleaded wretchedly.

"I've got all you need for now, my love," she called softly, "Please come back," swallowing hard, fighting her own desperation she softly she started to sing to the frightened creature, trying to soothe its nerves.

She lost track of time as she kept up the gentle singing, the Colonel creature started to inch its way towards her, still crippled by pain, doubt and fear and the attacks from the ghostly creatures swooping on him. It kept stopping and looking around suspiciously, ready for flight at a moments notice.

  
  


"How long has she been in there?" The Captain demanded of the watching team. She had been summoned to the Bridge for other problems and was now returning for a progress report.

"Three hours Captain," advised the Doctor, the concern showing on his face.

"How much longer can she remain there, Tuvok?" She queried.

"Not more than an hour Captain, If she doesn't return by then I will have to attempt to pull her back," he advised, "To do so before then may damage the situation that is evolving, she must gain his trust before returning. If she does not establish contact there will be no second opportunity."

In the Colonels mind Seven was having success of a sort, the Colonel had moved within arms reach, but was still ready for immediate flight. She tried offering a hand to him, but he darted away quickly. A black creature lashed at his face drawing blood, the Colonel screamed in pain and dropped to the floor. 

Unable to go to his aide she resumed the gentle song she had been using to coax him. Again he started to approach her, quicker this time. Finally he was near enough to put his head on her lap, this time he didn't try to run when she stroked its bald and leathery scalp. The black creatures stopped their incessant attacks, but circled over the two of them.

"I must go soon," she crooned, "I will return for you in a little while," she soothed, "I wish to help you return properly, but you must help me."

"You won't return," the Colonel creature announced, "You will runaway, or be taken like everything else in my life," it howled.

"Then you must return and run after me," she counselled stubbornly, "I need you, as much as before. You're my protector," She pointed out.

"I failed," it answered miserably

"You have never failed!" She chided him, some of her fire coming back.

She heard a voice calling her, so did the Colonel creature, "They're coming to take you away," he spat.

"It's Tuvok has come to collect me, I cannot stay long," she explained hurriedly, "I will be back for you."

"Want something?" It demanded.

She considered the request nonplussed. "You have sharp teeth and claws?" she asked at last.

"Yes," It announced.

"Take some of my hair," she urged.

"It will hurt you," he complained.

"I will not be seriously damaged," she assured him, "I'll bring you something substantial next time," she promised.

She avoided a scream, just, as the Colonel creature snatched out a couple of strands of hair from her head. He seemed satisfied and curled up with them next to his cheek.

"I must go," she said and leant forward to kiss the strange creature.

Gently she got up and walked slowly towards Tuvok. The bats still circled over the ball that was the Colonel.

  
  


"How is he?" The Captain asked urgently, as Seven stepped from her alcove.

"Scared but responsive, Captain," she replied, "I will return tomorrow and assist him further, he will need much assistance," she announced. She staggered as the exhaustion hit her, The Captain caught her and led her to a container, forcing her to sit.

"The cerebral activity has stabilised," agreed the Doctor.

"Don't try going in alone," the Captain reminded her, "You will need Tuvok's guidance to make this work and the rest of us to keep him physically alive, now go and have some food and rest," she ordered, "In a bed," she added, feeling the young woman's impatience to continue with the delicate operation.

"Tuvok?" The Captain queried, as the Vulcan stepped towards her.

"There is reason to be hopeful," he responded cautiously, "The Colonel's mind has responded and he is no longer being attacked, but it will still not be an easy venture, Seven will require much assistance and not a little luck."

  
  


"Captains Log," Captain Janeway commanded tiredly of the terminal in her Ready Room, the previous few days had been long and frustrating, as she had watched Seven of Nine struggling to rebuild the Colonel's spirit. Sometimes she seemed to be doing well, others she was losing ground, but she had stubbornly re-entered, sometimes three times in a day for upto three or four hours at a time, much to the chagrin of the Doctor and concern of Tuvok, whilst she had paced the Cargo Bay frustrated and helpless. Today had not been one of the better days.

Finally she got her thoughts together. "The Colonel has been under treatment in Cargo Bay 2 for nine days," she started, "I can only admire the tenacity and stubbornness of Seven of Nine in her determination to help him recover. If there was ever any doubt as to the level of feeling she has for this man, they have been totally dispelled. I have watched her come out of his mind dispirited and almost broken herself, but she finds new strength to re-enter again and help him. She has likened the task to a particularly complex child's three dimensional puzzle. I now worry for her own spirit as much as for the man I almost killed."

"Seven has obtained the Colonels permission for Lieutenant Commander Tuvok to join them on several occasions," she continued, "He is confident of Seven's eventual success, as are, for reasons beyond comprehension, the rest of the crew. I am amazed at the amount of interest they show in the strange soldier from another time, the feelings they have for him and the faith they have placed in Seven's success."

"Captain to the Cargo Bay immediately," her log musings were interrupted by the Doctors voice over the communicator.

Dreading another problem she responded, "On my way, what's happening?"

"Seven's still inside the Colonel, she won't come out, and it's been over four hours." the doctor sounded almost panicked.

"Where's Tuvok?" She demanded.

"I've summoned him, but he's still meditating after his last attempt at exploring the Colonel," came the reply.

"I'll collect him," she responded heavily, changing course for Tuvok's room.

She rang his door chime, there was no answer. "Security override, Janeway Alpha 01," she commanded clearing the locks. She charged in, she found him sitting on the floor, gazing fixedly at his meditation lamp in front of him.

"Tuvok we need you!" she called, fearing the interruption to his meditations, but fearing the results if she couldn't bring him out of them.

He shook himself into the real world and looked at her, the normally smooth Vulcan face now sunken in despair.

"What's the matter?" She demanded in shock at the change.

"I looked in his memories Captain," he whispered, "I have seen many things considered as horrors in the Fires of Vulcan, they compare with what is inside the Colonel's mind. He has lived with them permanently," he confessed. 

The Captain was appalled, she knew a little of the 'Fires'. It was a part of a Vulcan training ritual used to encourage logical thought, it supposedly showed those who went through it total horror, challenging the strength of their logical minds, the preparation for the test took years. She also knew her Vulcan Security Officer had taken the test and passed, for him to suggest that something approached them was unimaginable. 

"I have helped him secure them," he continued more calmly.

She knelt beside him, "We know he has seem many horrifying things, we know he has suffered many hardships and ordeals, he has successfully controlled them for most of his life and he will continue to do so, if you and Seven have done your work well," she encouraged gently, "Now Seven needs you, the Doctor thinks she may be trapped."

"I will come momentarily Captain," the Vulcan sighed, "I must regain my composure."

"Make it quick," she snapped turning to leave.

She reached the Cargo Bay at the run, "Report?" She snapped as she entered.

"I am undamaged Captain," it was Seven that answered her, she looked tired and drawn, but there was an element of joy in her voice, "The repairs are complete, Lieutenant Commander Tuvok should inspect the results before we allow the Colonel to revive," she announced.

"The Doctor thought you were in danger?" She challenged softly.

"I cannot be in danger in the Colonel's presence," she responded, "I was too close to completion to warrant leaving."

The Captain nodded in stunned agreement.

"Seven was in there for 4 hours 38 minutes," the Doctor confirmed, "It was too long, she must rest now!"

"I must remain until Tuvok has inspected the results of our work," she protested, "If there is an error it must be corrected quickly."

"Why are you so adamant?" The Captain asked quietly.

"I have calculated that today is the 27th March according to the Julian Calendar," she advised.

"So?"

"I have discovered that his birth date is the 29th, it seems appropriate to be 'reborn' on your birthday," Seven suggested levelly.

Tuvok entered the bay, he showed few of the signs that had alarmed the Captain a few minutes ago, "I am ready Captain," he announced quietly.

"Some of the urgency has gone," the Captain replied, "But if you're up to it, there is a date Seven would like to meet," she added with a wry grin.

"I am not immune to the significance of the date," Tuvok assured them, "It may also be a date of significance to his faith," he pointed out.

The Captain looked at him pointedly, then did her own mental calculations, "It's Easter Monday, isn't it?" she guessed, "The day of resurrection!"

"I believe so," the Vulcan assured her.

"Captain?" Asked the Doctor in confusion.

"Look it up," she suggested impatiently.

Tuvok took up position in front of the Colonel and re-entered his mind, hopefully for the last time.

He blinked in the new light that now existed, the doors that had appeared in disrepair were now brilliant white and moved easily. He had barely moved before a voice challenged him, "Who goes there?" it announced.

"I am Tuvok, a friend" he called.

"Advance and be recognised," the voice ordered. The doors in front of him opened and closed automatically as he advanced, this time guiding him to his location.

As he entered the centre of the maze he was met by the rejuvenated figure of the Colonel, it called to him, "Greetings Tuvok," he said and approached him. 

Tuvok examined him carefully, it was totally different to the small broken creature he had seen when he first entered, it looked almost exactly like the Colonel outside used to, tall, strong, erect and proud.

"How do you like my new home?" the Colonel asked, pointing to the new structure behind him. Tuvok looked, it appeared to be a form of castle, it shimmered grey in the light.

"Not quite what I was used to, but still very defensible," the Colonel admitted, "The brittle iron work has gone in favour of steel. The walls are properly reinforced with garrets. I don't remember quite so many crenellations before, but the maiden turret on the keep is a bit of a No-No, I think Seven's a romantic, she wants a shining knight and a castle and this is her dream too, I can live with that idea though. What are your thoughts?" He chattered nervously, pointing out the castles architecture.

"It looks secure," Tuvok admitted, "What are the flags?"

"They are my loyalties," he announced, "The regiment, the ship and Miss Nine."

"She left you with your Earth bond?" He asked in surprise,

"Not to do so, would break me from what I was, she didn't want to do that, nor did I. I am proud of what I was," he announced.

"How about your fears?" Tuvok asked quietly.

"I believe they are well locked away for the time being, you secured some of the worst remember! If I listen hard I can hear them, but it will be a long time before they assault me again, I hope," he answered carefully, "And if they do emerge, Miss Nine has a backdoor key," he tapped the back of his head where the implant sat.

"Very well I will inform the Captain that you are ready," Tuvok agreed and broke the link.

"He is ready Captain," Tuvok announced quietly, recovering from the meld. He wondered how much Seven had changed him in the rebuild and whether he should advise the Captain. Eventually he decided not to, for the time being, in case the Captain demanded it was all rebuilt as original, the changes didn't seem sufficient to warrant that much work, nor did he wish the Colonel to have to live with his previous levels of mental anguish.

"Get him back to Sick Bay, we'll let him sleep through tomorrow and wake naturally the day after," the Captain decided, "Seven you can go and rest, we'll have a talk before he wakes, I want to know what to expect when he does," she turned and left for her quarters.

  
  


Seven arrived on the Bridge after lunch the following day to be debriefed by the Captain, she led her into the Ready Room.

"Well Seven, it's not every woman who gets the chance to rebuild her man from the inside out, how much do you think you've changed him? You've not created Frankenstein's Monster have you?" She smiled gently.

"Captain, who is Frankenstein?" Seven asked curiously.

"It was a book about a brilliant professor who built the perfect human from spare parts, it didn't end happily, if you changed the wrong things it may have the same effect," the Captain prescribed.

"I considered attempting to changing him," Seven confessed, "He is far from perfect. In the end I realised that I am not perfect and he would not mean the same to me, if he was in anyway different."

The Captain sighed in relief, "Another of the Colonel's lessons learned?" She commented.

"Affirmative Captain," the ex-borg agreed.

"In the event I merely provided comfort to him, as he attempted to carry out your instructions," she continued.

"My instructions?" The Captain exclaimed.

"Affirmative. You ordered him to recover, surrender himself to me and return to duty," Seven reminded her.

"And you did nothing at all during all those days?" The Captain asked fascinated.

"He occasionally asked for my advice and assistance, I gave back some of what he has given me, there may be some slight changes due to that," Seven admitted calmly. 

"Any changes that have occurred are due to him rebuilding himself, he has taken his more 'visual' side as his guide. There appears to be little of what was under that mask left," she continued.

"You know him better than anybody, how different do you think he will be?" The Captain finally queried.

"I know he will no longer try to protect the two of us from each other unless I demand it, he will no longer have to hide his inner most feelings and he has permanently fixed his loyalty onto three things, his Regiment, the ship and myself, you should not need to question that again!" She finished with the accusation.

"I shouldn't have questioned it to start with," the Captain admitted forlornly. 

"Will he forgive me?" She wondered aloud.

"There is nothing to forgive Captain," Seven answered, "You ordered him to tell you something, it was your right as the Captain. He attempted to warn you of unpredictable events, but accepted your command. He would do it again, if so ordered," she advised.

"How do you know that?" The Captain asked astounded.

"He told me," she answered simply, "I was suffering from bitterness at your actions so we discussed it. He has never disobeyed an order from a commanding officer."

The Captain considered the statements carefully, finally accepting the truth of them, "Just interprets them as he wishes," she commented. "I think we'd better wait to see what wakes up," she announced at last.

"I'll see you in Sick Bay tomorrow," she dismissed Seven of Nine.

"Captain," Seven acknowledged, "He will wake at 05:30, he always does," she added and left the Captain to her thoughts.

  
  


Seven of Nine was correct as the chronometer changed to 05:30 the Colonel snapped awake. Disorientated he looked around him, he recognised the Sick Bay, the shining eyes of Seven of Nine sat beside him, holding his hand, then the gathering of ships officers around the bed. He sat upright quickly and put a hand to his head. "Good morning," announced cheerfully, then, "Anybody got the aspirin, I've got a splitting headache. I always seem to have one when I come here," he complained.

He caught sight of the Captain standing at the front of the ranks of smiling people, sprang from the couch in alarm trying to come to attention and salute at the same time, nearly collapsing onto Seven as he tried to gain his balance. Finally managing his intentions he croaked, "Colonel Samuels reporting for duty as ordered Ma'am."

The Captain laughed, "I thought you might have changed for the better, but I see you haven't and I'm actually glad," she claimed happily, "Happy birthday. Take this, one mug of good tea stewed to the point of ruin, just as you prefer it," she laughed again, handing him a mug.

"Thank you Ma'am," he said calmly, "And I have changed, I'm not fighting anything any more, not even Miss Nine, time will tell if that's an improvement," he commented.

"Apart from the implant, you are a physically perfect specimen, or as near as you will ever get," the Doctor announced, bustling around the Colonel with his tri-corder, "I'll remove it tomorrow."

"You will not!" The Colonel exclaimed, "It's my insurance policy, my hotline, something for me to play with now my mind has nothing to do when resting. Besides it has possibilities I'd never even considered before, like stopping Seven partaking of hanky-panky behind my back," he vowed.

The Captain laughed again, "Tuvok said you wanted to keep it. Provided there is no health problems you may do so, for as long as you both want it in place. Now take Seven away and rest properly for the party tonight, formal dress, Holodeck 1," she commanded.

"Party Ma'am?" he questioned impassively.

"Your Birthday Party, quite appropriate considering the events," she giggled, the relief flowing out of her, the new Colonel was proving to be as stiff as the old one, but perhaps tougher she hoped.

"Miss Nine, we have been given our marching orders, may I offer you my arm?" he inquired gallantly.

"That is acceptable," she agreed, taking it she supported him as they left the room for their own.

They watched them go with amusement, the tall Colonel trying to march proud and erect, the slim blonde trying to support him.

"Well Captain, you've had your miracle," commented Winston from his bed, "But who's was it?"

"I'm not sure it was a miracle," she answered him, "If you believe Seven, it was just the Colonel carrying out orders, doing the impossible, but he does it so well don't you think?" She continued.

"Aye Ma'am," agreed Winston

  
  


"I owe you everything, it's the only thing that still hurts," he confessed to Seven of Nine as they entered their quarters.

"Consider it as my present to you," she suggested, putting her arms around him and pushing him to the bed.

"Some present," he claimed, "A new life for an unworthy me! It's too much!"

"You will pay in other ways," she assured him, kissing him passionately.

"Not today dear, I have a headache," he quipped.

She moved to hit him, then had a better idea, she concentrated.

"Ouch!" he exclaimed, then "Wow, you naughty girl, you!" As he felt a strange new feeling of longing stir deep inside his mind.

"I will have to test the implant thoroughly," she commented mildly, "You will comply."

"Yes Ma'am." he agreed, "There was never any doubt, and you don't need the implant to achieve it," he breathed in her ear. 

He took her in his arms, pulling her close, kissing her firmly. Barely a twinge of guilt in his mind for the first time in his life.

Seven sighed in satisfaction. Sliding her own arms around him, she kissed back just as firmly, taking charge.

  
  


  
  


Revision 33

  


   [1]: mailto:story@rgower.f9.co.uk
   [2]: http://www.thestoryboard.co.uk/



	2. Entrapment

# **Entrapment**

_Voyager detects and springs a Borg trap laid to ensnare it. Unwittingly they fall into a second as they are attacked by another ship.._

_Voyager and characters (except the Colonel) in this story are copyright of Paramount. No resemblance is intended to any person alive or dead._

_The story line the Colonel and additional characters are my own._

_Constructive criticism and comments are welcome on e-mail [story@rgower.f9.co.uk][1]._

_If like me you like to know why things occur like they do, I would heartily recommend you start at chapter 1-01 Castaway._

_This story is rated PG on the UK sensors ratings_

_©R Gower 2000_

  


A green clad figure sat on the top of the little hill over looking the barracks and the village next to it, his back resting against a rock, looking intently into the clear night sky. He was not sure what he was looking for, but his heart told him there was something there somewhere. 

A second, more portly figure approached him. "It's no use Sergeant Major O'Neil. You have to accept he is dead and not going to come back!" He sighed. 

The first figure stood, revealing it to be a man, a truly big man, 6' 8" tall, broad across the shoulders, arms and legs like tree trunks, his fists, curled in frustration, looked like big hams in the moon light. He spoke with a thick Ulster accent, "Nothing can kill him, Sir! Definitely not those ugly bastards that took him, he'll be back," he vowed defiantly. 

The second man, touched by the solid and unflinching conviction of the Sergeant Major, smiled, "Perhaps your right, certainly not by normal means at any rate, but he will be too late, we leave this base to the Americans tomorrow and you've things to do." 

"Sir!" Snapped Sergeant Major O'Neil, lurching into reality again. 

"Carry on Sergeant Major!" The second figure commanded. 

"After you, Sir! Can't have a General walking around without a guard," the Sergeant Major announced. 

The second figure, Lieutenant-General Horace Fletcher, smiled, it belied the bond of friendship and faith that had formed between the two over many years of service, and had been reinforced by the mysterious disappearance of their mutual and close friend, the commander of one and the executive officer to the other. Force of habit made both men take a last look at the sky, "You know Patrick. If he's still alive and up there, he'll be scaring the life out of some poor soul," he commented quietly as they trudged back to the camp. The Sergeant Major grunted in agreement. 

"Are you sure this thing is safe?" Screamed Captain Janeway in a state approaching terror, over the sound of the clattering rotary engine sat less than six feet from her seat. 

"Safe as houses Ma'am," the Colonel assured her calmly from the rear cockpit. 

She was sitting in the front cockpit of the Colonel's flying museum piece. She had finally succumbed to the enthusiastic encouragement of Lieutenant Tom Paris, to take a pleasure flight in the Colonel's aeroplane. So far it was far from pleasurable and they had not even left the ground yet. She kept eying the cowling in front of her nervously, imagining what would happen if the whirling cylinders in front of her decided to follow the flames she could clearly see spitting from the side. 

"Are you sure it will fly?" She squeaked again. 

"It did yesterday, I see no reason to believe it not to today, Ma'am," the Colonel stated casually, "With your permission Ma'am, I shall endeavour to take off," he continued. 

"Get on with it," she yelled, "And stop calling me Ma'am." 

"Very good, Captain," He answered unconcernedly pushing the throttle open. 

She screamed at him in frustration. For nearly eighteen months she had been trying to stop him being quite so formal when she was off duty. For nearly eighteen months he had doggedly refused, keeping to the protocols laid down for him by his own regulations. She had hoped selfishly, she had admitted to herself, that it would be one of the little things that Seven had managed to change when rebuilding his mind, but clearly it wasn't to be. She screamed again, in alarm this time, as the Colonel banked the relic hard to avoid the trees at the edge of the aerodrome. 

"Madam weighs more than some of my other passengers," he complained calmly from the back seat. 

"Are you saying I'm getting fat?" she threatened from hers, looking back. 

"I would never claim such a thing of a lady, Captain," he protested. 

The Captain settled down to watch from the cockpit as the ground below slipped casually past. "Tom is right about one thing, the world does look different from this thing, compared to a shuttle," she admitted. 

"Sort of large, round and very hard?" Suggested the Colonel unhelpfully. 

She looked back sharply at him. She hadn't realised she had spoken aloud. Seeing a trace of a smile in the goggles he was wearing, she smiled herself, "I'll take control of this thing and land if your not careful Colonel," she warned. 

"As you wish Captain," he replied, taking his hand from the control column and waving it to her. 

She sank quickly back into her seat, feeling the aircraft lurch in its sudden freedom, "What do I do?" She screamed. 

"Taking the stick would be a good move Captain," his voice laughed at her from the back. She did so feverishly. 

"Now if you push it slightly to the left, it will stop the slow roll we are entering. Pulling it back a little will stop the nose from dropping any further," his voice instructed, "Thank you Captain, I don't think we will die today," he added. 

"You wait till I get you on the ground," she yelled at him, "I'll put you in the Brig for that stunt!" 

"As you wish Captain," he replied calmly, she could hear laughter in his voice, he knew she wouldn't carry out the threat. 

"I simply demonstrated that the aeroplane is safe. As madam wishes to return and we will take on the aspect of a cartwheel if we attempt to land with the wind on the beam, perhaps we should attempt a turn?" He suggested. 

"Okay I'm listening," she called. 

Quietly and confidently he started to teach her to fly an aeroplane. 

Lieutenant Torres entered the Mess for lunch cheerfully. Today and the previous day had been one of those days where everything had gone right; the engineering team had performed perfectly, the warp engines had realigned without a single glitch and she had had a truly awe inspiring experience with Tom Paris during the evening on the holodeck, courtesy of the Colonel's aeroplane. She had told him about it all night in her quarters. 

Taking her tray and carefully avoiding examining what was on it, she looked around the mess trying to decide who to enlighten with her good mood. She spotted Seven of Nine sitting on her own gazing out the window, she sauntered over to the tall blonde. 

"Good morning Seven. May I join you?" B'Elanna asked carefully, despite the Colonel's influences Seven of Nine could still be moody at times. 

"That will be acceptable," Seven agreed calmly. 

Torres settled at the table, "So where's the man today?" she enquired cheerfully. 

"The Captain wished him to demonstrate his aeroplane," Seven answered. 

"This early?" Torres was surprised, it was barely 11 o'clock. 

"It was the only time available that was convenient to the Captain and the Colonel wishes to convince her to let him return to duty," she explained. 

"It's only been a week since he was at death's door, shouldn't he wait and recover!" Torres exclaimed in surprise. 

"He believes he is ready," Seven announced, "He wishes not to be a 'freeloader'," she pondered the last word carefully, then confessed, "I am uncertain as to the nature of the meaning of the term." 

Torres laughed, "It means he wants to be himself and work," she explained gaily, "What does you think?" 

"He needs to learn about his new mind. He will learn better when he is performing his duties and we will find out if an error was made. He is different!" She claimed fervently. 

Torres caught the worried implication, and gently laid her hand on Seven of Nine's, "From what I've seen, he is different," she agreed, "But not a lot, he is not quite as hard on himself as he was, but you've put a lot of your own strengths in him, so he will be better able to cope," she added earnestly. 

"I merely assisted him to carry out his last orders," Seven protested vehemently. 

"No!" Snapped Torres, "You proved to him that people can and do care deeply for him, as much as he cares for them, I don't think anybody has ever done that before! He wouldn't accept it before, he couldn't, his old mind wouldn't let him," she continued gently, trying to comfort the fretful ex-borg. 

She suddenly smiled, "How about you? Now you've got him, was it worth the chase? Is he what you expected or has it been a big anticlimax?" She asked slyly. 

Seven of Nine sat for a moment, nonplussed by the sudden change of direction. "I still encounter some of the symptoms described in the romantic fictions supplied by the doctor," she claimed, "They are within acceptable limits. He is more responsive, it has been acceptable," she claimed with a rare smile. 

Torres laughed with relief for her friend, "I am glad, and if that was your normal understatement then I'm also jealous. I hope your giving him chance to recover!" She squealed with delight. 

"You deserve to be happy, you've earned it, after that chase. I still remember our discussion on Kellor, when he didn't cooperate, it gives me nightmares. I'd have killed Tom if he'd tried that on me!" She claimed earnestly 

"Events have shown the reasons for his resistance," Seven of Nine pointed out, serious again. 

"Yes, they have," agreed Torres quietly, "But it can't have been easy. " 

Tom Paris arrived at their table. 

"What are you two conspiring about?" He asked lightly, sitting at their table. 

"Oh! Just a sympathetic ear," Torres smiled at him, "We've been comparing notes and I think you've got some catching up to do!" She claimed wickedly, "Dinner tonight, in Paris at a show, your taking me out," she commanded. 

"Yes Ma'am!" The surprised Paris announced. 

After nearly three hours the Colonel allowed Captain Janeway to attempt to land his aircraft, his hand carefully hovering over the controls as she bounced it forcefully to the ground. The first attempt had it soaring high into the air again, as she brought it down too hard. Again she found herself shrieking in a mixture of alarm and fury as the simple flying machine seemed to garner a mind of it's own as it neared the ground. The second attempt was much better, the aircraft merely bouncing hard several times. Gratefully she brought it to a stop. 

As the engine stopped turning, he climbed out and helped her from the cockpit, lifting her bodily out and cradling her in his arms as he jumped from the wing. Gently he set her on the ground. Captain Janeway staggered drunkenly for a few moments, grabbing his arm again for support. 

"Tom was right about the whole experience. That was exhilarating, nothing like a shuttle and far more interesting," she babbled. 

The Colonel watched her with amusement as she chattered away about the feelings she had experienced. He had felt them himself, after Seven of Nine had first activated it and had heard them several times from others who had begged to try this strange new programme. 

"Should I call security?" He asked at last, "You expressed a desire to see me in the Brig," he pointed out as calm as ever. 

She laughed, "That won't be necessary, I'll just tell Seven you carried me in your arms without being asked," she responded gleefully, "She'll break every bone in your body." 

"That's probably true," he nodded pensively. 

"Let's go for lunch," she announced cheerfully, grabbing his arm again. She had enjoyed being held in his arms as well, it was not a luxury she allowed herself often, certainly not from this man. 

"Tell me how long did it take to train pilots in one of those and how?" She asked, as she led them towards the mess. 

"The how is easy Captain, they learnt the same way as you've just done, by flying it, no simulators then," he commented, "How long varies depended upon the pilot and circumstances. During the First War for instance, some would have been lucky to get ten hours flying, including the solo flight, before being given their aeroplane and told to fly to France. That included niceties like how to navigate using a map whilst flying. By the Twenties, when that Avro was flying, somebody decided that it would be a good idea to get a few of their expensive aeroplanes and pilots back, so they created flying school and a whole host of subjects to go with it, like weather, until then if you could see the other side of the airfield, then you could fly," he continued casually. 

"It must have been terrifying," she commented. 

"I don't think most of them lived long enough to be scared," he suggested quietly. 

"A perfect career for you then!" She countered waspishly. 

"I'm mad, Captain, not stupid," he countered, "If God had intended me to fly he would have given me wings," he claimed fervently. 

"I'm not sure he hasn't," she answered him, tactfully releasing his arm as they entered the Mess. "Now what's your pleasure, my treat!" She announced. 

"I'll take whatever Mr Neelix has in the pot," he affirmed, "I'm still a home cooking boy at heart," he confided. 

She sighed with disappointment, even with the Colonel's advice and Neelix's enthusiasm, the Mess menu still tended to leave things to be desired. Out of loyalty, she helped them both to plates of the lunch time stew. They walked, with their plates, to a vacant table in the corner of the room and settled to talk as they ate. They were joined shortly after by Seven of Nine, exchanging tables. 

"Well Seven," the Captain announced, "I know you softened him to suit you, but couldn't you have softened him for me as well?" She teased, "He's just as stiff as before. He offered to call security earlier because I threatened him with the Brig. He's impossible!" She laughed. 

"Captain?" Seven questioned, raising an eyebrow. 

"Just once, I'd like to hear him use my name and not Captain, or Ma'am, or worse!" She claimed in exasperation. 

"How do you feel now?" She asked, turning seriously again. 

The Colonel considered the question for a moment, then replied simply, "Bored, Ma'am." 

"I suppose your want to ask if I am going to let you return to duty?" She asked. 

"Don't look innocent," she demanded, as she spotted the Colonel's eye's open wide in mock surprise, "I'm getting to know you, Alan Samuels, I know you've been sitting in on the Dog Watch." 

"Lieutenant Colonel Samuels, formally requesting to be returned to active duty, Ma'am?" The Colonel snapped the request out dutifully. 

"I'm not going to make it so easy for either of you," she answered wickedly, "I'm going to ask your real commander. Seven, is he ready to get out of bed in the mornings?" 

"He is ready, Captain" Seven replied loyally. 

"The Captain smiled, "I don't entirely believe you are, but I don't think I can stop you," she commented, "Present yourself for duty tomorrow morning," she announced, making her decision. 

"Thank you Ma'am," the Colonel sighed gratefully. 

"Thank you for the ride, I would like to try again at some point, see if I can land without driving my spine through my skull! But for now you will both excuse me," she declared, standing up. The Colonel stood and saluted as she did so. 

"That's something else we need to work on. Getting you to stop saluting!" She laughed as she walked away. 

"Miss Nine, I am at your disposal for the rest of the day, what are your orders, Ma'am?" He asked cheerfully. 

"I need to inspect the power distribution system on deck ten, you may assist me," she informed him dispassionately. 

The Dog Watch paraded for him as the shift started, wearing big smiles, they now unofficially referred to themselves as 'The Colonel's Dogs', and were proud of the status that had seemingly been given them by the Captain. Between themselves they had inspected each other, picked out every small flaw and corrected it. Carefully he inspected them, to the amusement of Chakotay, try as he might he could find no fault in their dress. 

"Not bad!" he confessed at last, "Even Ensign Carver seems to have had a shave this morning," he continued gruffly. 

"Now you're probably wondering if I've mellowed over the last few weeks, or if I'm still what I was? Well for once I can't give you an answer, so we will have to find out the hard way. I have here," he paused as he pulled several PADD's from his pockets, "Several scenarios that Miss Nine and Lieutenant Commander Tuvok have concocted at my request. I've not checked them. I think we will ask Commander Chakotay to choose which ones we test and we'll see if I can still do the job I've been put here to learn. Commander If you don't mind?" He finished, offering the PADD's to Chakotay. 

He took them and read the synopsis's carefully, finally he selected one saying, "I think Tuvok is as interested as I am in the answer to this, let's try a Caretaker type scenario on you!" 

"That's a little unfair Commander!" Protested the Colonel gently, "Still, we'll see what happens." 

Chakotay set the scenario running from the Science Station and the Colonel set to his task. 

He had been working for less than an hour, when he felt a stinging sensation in the back of his head where the implant lay, absently he rubbed the area gently. Chakotay noted the action, picking up the small insignificant action as the Colonel had been teaching the rest of the crew to do. 

"The scenario proving too difficult for you?" He teased gently, smiling. 

"No Sir," he responded, "I think it may be Miss Nine dreaming, I find I get some interference sometimes. They can be quite illuminating, but this time it is uncomfortable, so I suspect she may be having something like a nightmare," he explained. 

Chakotay smiled, "You two are getting too close, you want to go and look after her?" 

"Not at the moment Sir, thank you. It's not serious, but I'll keep a track of it. I have things to do here," he announced, again he bent to his work. The solution was starting to look quite complex, the Colonel was deploying the entire resources of the crew, in his attempt to establish a long-lasting peace between the xxxx and yyyy. He had three separate Away Teams working and both of the ship's shuttles being used as defensive patrols, Chakotay was struggling to keep the simulation running. 

Suddenly the Colonel emitted a short yelp of pain and held the back of his head. 

"The implants playing up, should I call the Doctor?" Chakotay asked quickly, concern showing on his face. 

"No Sir!" The Colonel refuted stoutly, "There's something else, but I don't know what it is." 

"Ensign Carver," he suddenly announced, "Run a Sub Space interference scan," he commanded. 

"Sorry Sir," he added to Chakotay, "But I think we may have another problem." 

"Is that a hunch, or do you know?" Chakotay questioned. 

"It's not something I'd wake the Captain for yet, but yes," he answered. 

"There is some unusual Sub Space interference Sir," Carver announced, checking his logs, "But I can't form a pattern. 

"Ensign Kala, work with Ensign Carver, try and isolate a pattern and a source," the Colonel ordered. 

"Ensign Torick what's on the long range sensors, then do a high sensitivity sweep, we may need a bolt hole very soon," he continued. 

Chakotay looked at him sharply, "You're very certain?" 

"I understand the Borg use sub-space transmissions to connect to their drones Sir," the Colonel replied, "Normally that isn't a problem to anybody. Miss Nines implants filters out spurious messages without conscious effort. But if the bastards are close enough, I think it may be possible for me to pick them up. I haven't got the same level of automatic filtering built into my implant and it doesn't know what to do with them, but I would have thought we would be close enough to see them though!" 

"Nothing on the sensors," reported Torick. 

"There is a Borg trace in the interference," advised Kala from the Science Station. 

"I think it may be time to awaken the Captain and my sleeping beauty Sir," the Colonel announced quietly, "There is a problem out there!" A hint of concern was starting to show on the Colonels chiselled face. 

Chakotay nodded in agreement, "Captain to the Bridge, Seven of Nine to the Bridge," he intoned quietly. 

The Captain responded quickly, but there was no reply from Seven of Nine. 

"Permission to release the ship to you and collect her, Sir?" The Colonel asked quickly. 

"Carry on," Chakotay informed him taking his seat. 

The Colonel ran for Seven of Nine's quarters. 

"Report?" the Captain snapped blearily as she stepped on the Bridge, finding the Colonel missing. 

"We think there is a Borg presence in the area, but we can't find it. The Colonel has gone to fetch Seven of Nine for assistance," Chakotay advised her quietly. 

"How do you know then?" The Captain asked sharply. 

"The Colonel thinks he can 'feel' their presence," he said simply, "Let him explain it when they return," he suggested. 

She nodded an acceptance and took her seat. 

"Captain. We've got a limited directional fix on the signals," reported Carver from the Science Station he was sharing with Ensign Kala. 

"Where are they from?" The Captain asked. 

"They're from four distinct directions, two are behind, one in front, one below, Captain," he advised, "Passing results to Tactical and Navigation," he continued. 

"Captain. Evasion course computed and laid in, Awaiting orders, Ma'am!" Reported Crewman Winston, "Wish to advise course will lead us into a particularly empty sector, Ma'am. Nowhere to hide! Examining alternate courses." 

The Captain was impressed, "The watch are doing things the way the Colonel claimed he would make them do them," she thought, "Working for and between themselves, preparing solutions for anything that he could demand." 

"Very good," she stated, "Your alternate courses, put them on the screen please crewman," she commanded, she had her own ways of doing things. 

"Computers' recommended course, showing in yellow Ma'am," intoned Winston, "Leads us away from the threats, but there is no cover for us in 20 light years. Alternate course, in blue, would allow us to use six planetary systems to mask ourselves, but could take us close to a transmission source," he explained as a second jagged route appeared. 

"Is this the Colonel applying his ground skills?" She wondered aloud, examining the alternate route with it's many twists and turns, "Using anything available for cover." 

"He has encouraged us to look for every detail, Ma'am, no matter how small, it does seem to work, most of the time," agreed Winston. 

"Which is your recommendation crewman?" She asked, with interest, the second course she admitted to herself, wouldn't have occurred to her before. 

"Without more reliable information Ma'am. I think I would use the computers' recommendation and gun it," Winston admitted reluctantly, "But it takes us off-course by quite a margin, Ma'am, if it's a trap we could be in trouble," he finished. 

"I agree," she reassured him, "And the alternate route is a little too complicated for my liking," she added. 

"I have a third option, whilst we're waiting for something positive, Ma'am," Winston offered carefully. 

"Go on," she encouraged. 

"The first system on the alternate route appears to have three planets with an unusually high magnetic flux, we could simply hide there?" Winston suggested, "We could use the deflector and the fluxes to hide ourselves." 

She nodded, recognising the tactic from experience, "Do it!" She demanded, "Perhaps Seven of Nine can shed some light on the circumstances." 

The Colonel entered the quarters he shared with Seven of Nine, he could hear her tossing and whimpering as she lay asleep on the bed. 

"Computer, lights 50%, please," he commanded quietly. As the lights came on, he sat on the bed next her, taking her hand. He leaned forward and kissed her on the forehead, she was sweating profusely. For a brief moment he wondered if the pain he was feeling from the implant was because she had caught a fever, and everything was a false alarm. Quickly he dismissed the idea, the senses that had helped keep him alive all these years had never been wrong before. 

"Come on Duck, it's time for you to wake up," he whispered in her ear, gently nuzzling it. 

She woke with a scream, sitting up sharply. Immediately he put his arms around her, holding her close, "It's okay, my love, it was a bad dream," he whispered in her ear, "Your safe, I've got you!" 

She turned her head and buried it into his shoulder. "I dreamt that I was being chased by Borg," she sobbed, "I couldn't get away and they assimilated the crew and ship." 

"I know," he claimed softly, "I felt it too. But they haven't got us and the only way they'll get to you is through me," he comforted her, gently stroking her golden hair. 

"They'll kill you," she sobbed. 

"They've done a bloody bad job of it so far," he pointed out gently, "And trying to get you won't improve their chances any. Your part of my life, I won't let you go!" He continued softly. 

Gradually she regained control of herself again, comforted by the Colonels arms around her, his gentle voice and the gentler kisses he was offering. 

"You knew?" she accused softly, "How?" 

"I've gained a headache from the implant," he confessed gently, "I sometimes pick up something from you when you're asleep, I usually succeed in ignoring them, but this is different. There is more to this than meets the eye, we need to discuss it upstairs, if you're able?" He asked quietly. 

She nodded reluctantly. 

"You believe that there is danger?" She asked pointedly, recovering her composure. 

"Yes," came the simple reply. 

He noted her change of attitude as the clinical side of her nature took control. 

"The last time my sixth senses were jangling like this, I was in a trench in a battle line, two hours before the heaviest artillery bombardments I've ever been victim of started. I don't know what it is, but I know it's there." 

He turned away and rummaged in a draw as she quickly dressed herself in the fine but strong leather suit he had made her, so long ago it seemed now. "I am ready," she announced calmly. 

"Good," he announced, inspecting her carefully, "you're a real dish, dressed like that. Suggestive, but not too revealing," he whispered in her ear, then giving her a playful peck on the cheek, attempting to cheer her up a little. 

"Shall we go?" He asked offering his arm. 

She took it gratefully, then kissed him back. 

"Well Colonel, I hope there is a good explanation for all this fuss?" Announced the Captain drily, as they stepped on the Bridge, "We've lost all the Sub-Space static." 

"Forgive me Ma'am, I am hoping there isn't. I sincerely hope it's just me being over reactive to a nightmare," he commented grimly. 

She examined his grim face and immediately accepted his comment, "You have a theory?" She asked. 

"Personally I haven't a clue. But Miss Nine has," he answered quickly. 

"Escort Seven to the Conference Room, I'll get Tuvok and B'Elanna in as well," she commanded. 

"Tell us what has happened so far!" She barked as they settled at the table, she noticed Seven had sat herself close to the Colonel, seeking his protection, she looked pale and drawn. "She's terrified of something," she thought, again she marvelled at the changes that the Colonel's affections had wrought upon the ex-borg, her human side was certainly taking control of her, she decided. 

Quickly the Colonel went over the events on the bridge up to his departure. 

"You've had feedback from Seven before, are you sure it's not just the effects of a nightmare?" Suggested Torres hopefully. 

"I wondered about that," he confessed ruefully, "But it felt all wrong. I've only had feedback a couple of times, but I found if I concentrate hard enough I can get the impression of what is going on. It has never been painful, usually the direct opposite," the Colonel admitted with a sheepish grin. 

"Captain, I believe the Borg may be attempting to track us," announced Seven nervously, gently biting her lower lip. It was the first time she had spoken since she had arrived on the Bridge. 

"How?" The Captain asked sharply, then noticed the blonde flinch, and wished she hadn't made it so harsh. 

"When I regenerate, my implants go into an automatic response mode so that they may receive and transmit data to the alcove," she explained, "For the Colonel to receive them it suggests they do the same should I sleep. It is not normally a problem, every Borg has their own unique frequency, so there is no interference. The implant the Colonel has, shares the same frequency but the range and sensitivity is limited, so again restricting interference unless desirable. If the Borg were to set a series of Sub-Space transmitters tuned to the frequency of my cerebral implants, they could transmit and receive a limited amount of information whenever I regenerate and I would be unaware of the events. The power required could fall within the capabilities of the Colonel's device to detect." 

The room stared at her in alarm. 

"How much do they know?" Wondered the Captain aloud. 

"Very little," replied Seven, "The Colonel's implant is not configured to receive Borg codes, that is why they hurt him. It therefore seems unlikely that they have been in contact for more than one, possibly two days, or else he would have felt them before. They will certainly not know that we have intercepted the transmissions." 

"What can we do to block the transmissions, Tuvok?" The Captain asked. 

"I can erect a dampening field around the ship," he offered calmly. 

"Perhaps we should consider what we can do with the tactical advantage, Ma'am?" Suggested the Colonel. 

"Explain please Colonel?" The Captain asked quickly. 

"What strikes me Ma'am," he started, "Is that jamming the signals, is only half the solution, they know where we are, give or take a little. But if we are not actually on a sensor, then all they have to follow is a Radio Direction Finder. If we can figure out what they are picking up and what Miss Nine is sending, could we configure a probe to follow a course and periodically emit suitable signals? That way we can send them on their own merry course." 

The Captain nodded in recognition of the sense in the argument, "Is it possible to decode the transmissions?" 

"Affirmative Captain," Seven confirmed. 

"B'Elanna, probe conversion?" 

"A few hours' Captain," announced Lieutenant Torres. 

"We are working on supposition, Captain, based upon the Colonel's feelings," pointed out Tuvok impassively, "Are you sure that this is a valid course of action?" 

"Yes," she replied bluntly, "Let's do it." 

Everybody left to their respective tasks, except the Colonel, who sat with a pensive look on his face. 

"There's something else on your mind Colonel," the Captain stated quietly, "What is it?" 

"There are a couple of things, Ma'am," he admitted, "The positioning of their sensors, they're not placed properly to form an efficient RDF net. I think they may have been placed for us to find, so that we are pushed in the direction they want us to go. The trouble is which direction do they want? Surely they don't expect us to branch out into the open, we'd stand out like a sore thumb, but they must expect some change in direction to their advantage, they're mindless not dumb." 

He sighed, "Perhaps I'm just being paranoiac, looking too deep," he suggested, smiling grimly. 

"And the other thing?" She asked. 

"I don't think they're interested in Voyager. If we get in the way that would be fine by them, but we're not the target," he offered. 

"We've twisted their tails more than once," she reminded him, "What makes you think we are of no interest?" 

"Because using Miss Nine's implants makes no sense either, they could use passive sensors just as easily and not be detected. Sooner or later she would notice the signals in the alcove log," he pointed out quietly. "They are after Miss Nine, Ma'am. They are hoping to alarm her into doing something rash, like run off on her own. She would be easy meat then." 

"Then they have a flaw in their master plan," she exclaimed, "They don't know she has you to look after her. You will protect her won't you?" 

"To my dying breath Ma'am. But it won't be enough." He answered, "Unfortunately she knows that as well and she will work out who they are after very soon. May I suggest we lock her out of the transporters and shuttle bays?" 

The Captain nodded, "I'll arrange it, you had better keep close to her until we are over the threat." 

"Ma'am!" He replied, he saluted and left in search of Seven. 

The necessary conversions were completed within seven hours. Seven of Nine, under the Colonel's watchful eye, briefed them on the contents of the messages she had sent and received. 

"They have taken course data," she announced, "But that is all. They have supplied a set of coordinates and a demand that I take a shuttle to that point to be picked up, they have threatened to destroy Voyager otherwise," she admitted calmly. 

"How do you feel about it?" The Captain asked gently. 

"Captain, I do not wish to see Voyager or the crew assimilated," she started, swallowing hard, "A year ago, I would have detected their message and complied, believing it to be the only way of saving the ship and crew," she confessed, then stopped, unsure of how to continue. 

"Go on," the Captain prompted gently. 

"I have learnt that others care for me. I wish to remain with you, unless it is imperative to save the crew," she admitted candidly, "You have outwitted the Borg on numerous occasions and have even risked your life to save me. Voyager and the Colonel are my collective. I do not believe either would allow me to leave willingly." 

"I'm glad you've learned something from us!" The Captain laughed in relief. 

"The Colonel thinks the Borg's objective is Seven of Nine and aren't interested in us. I think he is wrong for once, they want us as well, they know we will chase her if she tried to leave." The Captain announced firmly to the meeting at large. "We will launch two probes, the first will be configured to masquerade as a shuttle containing Seven, the second will make more noise and pretend to be Voyager chasing her, we'll launch it thirty minutes after the first. That will keep them interested, we will lay here for long enough for them to chase after the probes for a while, then slip away using the route Crewman Winston outlined. Tuvok's sub-space dampening field should keep the truth hidden for long enough," she explained, "Any comments, Colonel?" 

"Nothing at the moment Ma'am," he agreed amicably. 

"Tuvok, launch the first probe," she ordered. "Let's make it realistic. Send orders for Seven to return, then prepare to launch the second probe." 

"Captain, probe is launched, return orders transmitted," Tuvok confirmed, "Warp speed in twenty seconds." 

The Bridge crew waited as the first then second probe were launched on course for the coordinates the Borg had given. 

"We're not out of the woods yet," the Captain reminded them, as the last probe set off on its course. "No transmissions of any sort will be made, all sensors to be set as passive, we'll wait here for six hours then get underway again. The Dog Watch can finish their shift," she decided. 

"Ma'am," the Colonel acknowledged. 

Six hours later the Dog Watch handed over to the Captain Janeway's prime crew. 

"Anything to report Colonel?" Chakotay asked the Colonel, taking over control. 

"Course has been programmed and set, Sir. We think we spotted three cubes at extreme range chasing the probes, but they were at extreme range, we lost them again before we could identify them. Otherwise it's been quite quiet," The Colonel announced. 

"Thank you. When the Captain arrives we will probably get underway," Chakotay advised. 

"You can stay and see us get underway?" He invited. 

"Thank you Sir, but I think I will get in the way and it's been a long night," the Colonel declined tactfully and headed for the lift. 

He found Seven laying on the bed, awake and waiting for him. 

"You should be asleep," he chided gently, "Tuvok's dampening field will stop them tapping your mind, so it's quite safe," he assured her. 

"Yet you are still concerned," she pointed out. 

"You're much too good with this implant tapping," he smiled. 

"I do not need the implant, it is apparent on your face," she retorted, "You still believe there is a danger from Borg vessels. You also still believe I will try to give myself up to them in an attempt to save the ship." 

"You're much too sharp for me," he confessed, yawning and sitting on the bed beside her, taking her hand gently. 

"Yes, there is still a threat and no, you won't give yourself up to them, one or other of you would have to kill me first." He declared. 

"Now move over and let this tired old guard dog lie down, there's a few hours yet before anything will start." 

She rolled over, turning her back to him, bringing her thumb to her mouth in a childish gesture of nerves and let him lay down. She felt his arms curl protectively around her, pulling her back tight to his chest. 

"Why do I find you so comforting?" she asked softly. 

"Perhaps I'm the only one that is prepared to do this to a princess and take the consequences." Whispered the Colonel lightly, gently kissing her neck and squeezing her tighter. 

She tried to roll over and fix him with her cold stare, but found he wouldn't let her. She settled for pushing her rump hard into his lap instead. 

"I thought Ensign Kim wished to try once," She confided, "He declined vociferously." 

"He's a decent enough chap, toes the company line too well for my personal preference, but he'll learn. He's got much better prospects than me!" He commented drowsily, "If you wish, I'll take you to his quarters later?" 

This time she did manage to turn over. "You would let me join him but not the Borg?" She demanded sharply. 

"Of course, if it was of your own free will," He protested, "I love you and vowed to protect you. I've never asked for you to do the same for me. You owe me nothing, whilst I owe my life to you," He continued gently. 

"There are times that I wish you would take up with someone like Kim," he declared, "I still think you are too good for the likes of me. It still puzzles me why you should wish to be spend so much time with me, I have had a history of losing things I care about," He added sadly. 

She gazed at the sad and caring face laying on the pillow in front of her. "I find you acceptable." She claimed, kissing him gently on the lips. "Perhaps there will be a point when I will reveal the reasons to you," She vowed rolling over again, pressing her back firmly into his chest and positioning his hands for maximum sensation. 

She sighed in satisfaction as she felt his hands gently squeeze her breast and crotch. "Minx!" he whispered in her ear. 

They dozed gently. 

They were woken with a start as the red alert klaxon sounded. They both sprang from the bed as though stung and struggled to straighten their clothing. 

"Put this on," The Colonel demanded, handing her a heavy belt. A long thin knife was attached to it. 

She did as she was bid, then in curiosity she pulled the blade out and examined it. The blade was a full 500 mm long serrated along one edge, attached to a simple wooden handle about 200 mm long covered a tube, a simple cross guard separated the handle from the blade. 

"What is it?" She asked, "I will be unable to use it!" 

"Technically it's a sword bayonet," he explained, "As for using it, believe me you will, if it is necessary," he declared. 

His last act as he hurried them through the door, was to grab his rifle and two canvas kit bags. Quickly they made their way to the Bridge. 

"I wondered how long it would take you two to get here," commented the Captain quietly as the Colonel snapped to attention on the Bridge threshold. "It looks as though we may both have been wrong, we have a cube chasing us," she said tensely, "Any suggestions?" 

"In the absence of clouds, run like buggery, Ma'am?" suggested the Colonel. 

"For once we're ahead of you Colonel, but Borg Cubes are slightly faster than us!" was the disconcerting reply from the Captain. 

"What we could do with, are smoke and flash bangs, Ma'am," he offered. 

"Explain?" The Captain demanded. 

"In circumstances like these we used to deploy smoke grenades, flares and things we called snappers, they rattled like machine guns, to disrupt enemy sensors. They allowed us to change positions quickly without them seeing us. Warships and aircraft used chaff and flares to disrupt radar and missiles," he explained quickly. 

"Tuvok can we modify torpedoes and probes to achieve a decoy?" Captain Janeway demanded of her Security Officer. 

"A probe could be used to emit a continuous Polaron bursts," he admitted, "That will disrupt sensors, Captain. But they will adapt." 

"Prepare them, Seven take tactical whilst Tuvok is busy," she ordered, "It seems as though your out of date ideas may come to our rescue again Colonel!" She claimed calmly. 

"Aye, Ma'am, lets hope those bastards haven't heard about them," he agreed equally calmly. 

"There coming in range now Captain," advised Kim from his station. 

The ship lurched heavily as a phasor blast struck it. "Shields down to 80%," announced Kim. 

"Seven, target their weapon's arrays, full spread of torpedoes and phasor fire," Janeway ordered. 

"Torpedoes away," Seven announced. She paused briefly, then claimed. "Phasor banks discharged." 

The Captain looked sharply at her. 

"I timed the phasors to concentrate and coincide with the first torpedo detonations," she explained, blushing slightly, "It has overloaded their shields, the third and fourth torpedoes have penetrated, a weapon's array has been eliminated," she advised reading the console. 

"Good thinking, do it again," the Captain announced. 

"Captain," Seven replied, cocking an eyebrow in recognition. 

Again the ship was rocked by Borg fire, "Shields at 30% Captain," advised Kim, "Redirecting Emergency Power, but we won't survive another strike!" 

"We've lost Warp, Captain," called Tom Paris. 

"Engineering!" She called on the intercom. 

"We're on it Captain," advised Torres immediately, predicting the command. 

"Tuvok, where's our smoke?" Janeway demanded. 

"Ready Captain!" Came his curt reply, "Loading into the torpedo tubes now." 

The ship rocked again, "Shields are down," yelled Kim. 

A party of a dozen Borg drones suddenly shimmered into existence on the Bridge. 

"We are the Borg. You will be assimilated. Resistance is futile!" they intoned, turning to intercept the Bridge occupants. 

"Beam them out!" screamed the Captain, leaping from her seat with Chakotay, phasors ready. Two Borg fell to their combined fire, the rest took no notice as their shields adapted to the weapons, another party of Borg appeared and advanced upon the bridge crew. 

"They've applied dampening fields, I can't lock on for transporters," yelled Kim, pulling out his own phasor. 

"They've adapted," shouted Chakotay, desperately adjusting his weapon. 

Their calls were interrupted by six rapid reports as the Colonel started firing his own weapon. Three more drones dropped to the deck. 

The Colonel saw a drone reaching for Seven of Nine who was falling back from its reach. Desperately he dived forward and rammed the bayonet of his rifle into the drones back, twisting then pulling it free. Spinning around he saw another approaching Kim, brought his weapon up and fired quickly. "Commander, take this!" he yelled, tossing the weapon towards Chakotay. He drew his sword and swung it at another Borg drone, the great blade ripping its chest open. 

"Keep the ship flying," they heard his voice he charged the Borg huddle, "I'll deal with this!" 

"Kim, get the shields back up!" Screamed the Captain, as a third and fourth wave of drones materialised and turned towards the immediate threat of a screaming charge from the Colonel. 

"Seven launch the probes! Tom helm hard over as soon as they start working!" She continued yelling her orders, in the relative peace of the drones attempting to suppress the Colonel. 

He seemed to disappear into the mass, as he repeatedly thrust and swung with the blade. The Borg for their part seemed unsure of how to deal with the fast-moving soldier, their armour prevented them moving quickly enough to intercept him. Their adaptive shielding, so effective against phasors, was totally incapable of adapting to the blade, fist and boot he was wielding with such ferocity. The only solution that the Collective could provide was to join up and push forward, to suppress the threat at all costs. The tactic wasn't succeeding, there were already a dozen drones on the floor from his first charge and the number was increasing. 

Unable to use their phasors and bereft of any more suitable weapons, the Bridge crew struggled to regain control of the ship and watch as the fight between the Borg and the Colonel continued. Chakotay, not daring to fire the rifle that had been thrown to him for fear of hitting the hard fighting Colonel, charged at the mass and stabbed the bayonet at a Borg standing in the way. He watched in detached fascination as the drone seemed to straighten, then toppled back as he wrenched the blade from it. He was immediately thrown out by the flailing arm of a struggling Borg, he lay on the deck stunned. Two more Borg made a wild lunge at the Colonel, missed as he ducked away, then slumped to the deck as they injected each other amidst the confusion. Their probes attacking and reassimilating themselves. 

The Colonel appeared from the pack, pressed back against the rail as the remaining Borg pressed him. He swung again and lost his footing on the deck now slippery with blood and toppled over the rail, landing with a thud on his back, stunning him. The drones followed. 

In a sudden whirl of movement a lithe figure dressed in brown leather charged at them, her narrow blade thrusting out into the neck of a seemingly victorious Borg. She slid it out again and slashed at the face of a second, before being forced to retreat in the face of another two drones. She dropped the blade in surprise at her action and backed up in terror. 

"You are Borg," they announced, advancing on her, "You will return to the Collective, You are to be assimilated. Resistance is futile." 

Recovering slightly, the Colonel rolled to his knees, then to his feet, in time to thrust his blade into another drone as it plunged at him. The steel blade snapped as the Borg dropped. Undeterred he swung around and buried the remains of the broken blade deep in the chest of the last drone facing him, the force of the blow smacking it back over the rail that he himself had just fallen over. 

Looking around he saw Seven of Nine retreating from her two attackers. Letting loose a scream of rage, which froze everybody on the Bridge, he charged them. He caught the first, spinning it around and smacked the palm of his hand into the optical extension, ramming it back into the eye socket, temporarily blinded with pain it staggered away, crashing into a console. He grabbed the last one by the throat, lifting it bodily from the ground, throttling it. "I hope they are watching and listening, in that Collective of yours," he snarled, "Because this is the second time I've fought you bastards and I'm getting really pissed off. Note this and note it well. Seven of Nine is under my protection, if she's to be assimilated it will be by me and of her own free will. If you bastards try to collect her again, so help me, God, I will seek out your Collective and destroy it," With a sharp twist he snapped the drones neck, it fell to the ground, lifeless. 

"Colonel, behind you," screamed Kim. 

The last drone caught hold of the Colonel and extended its assimilation tubes into his neck. The Colonels eyes went wide with surprise. Immediately he grabbed the arm and spun around, ripping the tubes out again. Continuing to hold the arm firmly he spun again twisting the arm as he went. The prosthetic arm of the tactical drone tore off at the shoulder. Without stopping his spin the Colonel swung the flailing arm across the neck of the stunned drone. It dropped to the ground stunned, the Colonel dropped on it, hands on its throat, throttling the life out of it. As the drone stilled the Colonel looked around, seeing an absence of further risk he slumped to the ground, blood flowing freely from the lacerations on his throat. 

"Status?" Snapped the Captain, recovering from the shock at the ferocity of the bloody fight, she had just witnessed. 

"Shields are up again Captain!" Announced Kim, returning his attention to the console. 

"Adjusting course Ma'am," announced Paris. 

"Engineering to Bridge, We've unwelcome company down here!" B'Elanna's voice sounded. 

"Chakotay!" Snapped the Captain in desperation, "Take the Colonel's weapon." 

"On my way," he announced, hefting the unfamiliar weapon the Colonel had thrown him and dashing for the lift. 

"Seven of Nine to Sick Bay, medical emergency on the Bridge," called Seven of Nine on her communicator, kneeling by the Colonel. 

He took her hand gently, "The bags I brought up, they contain Thermite charges, strap it to one of the Borg, beam it back to the cube, you know where it will do most good!" His order was a whisper. 

"I shall comply," Seven of Nine confirmed gently kissing him. She let go of his hand as his face tensed, went grey and he drifted into unconsciousness. She felt a tingle in the back of her neck, it seemed to be reinforcing her resolve. 

She snapped up the bags the Colonel had mentioned, "Captain, your assistance," she ordered, "The Colonel has given instructions to return the Borg with the explosives he brought with him." 

"He brought explosives on the Bridge!" The Captain was incredulous, "We could all have been killed!" 

"The Colonel believes that if the Borg over powered us, death would be preferable," replied Seven of Nine, as she worked feverishly. "Your assistance is required, we must set the detonators and beam the bodies to the Borg Cube before shields are restored," she continued coldly. 

Quickly the Captain stooped to comply with the blonde woman's orders, whilst Seven started to programme the transport. 

"I have located the central power system, I shall beam the bodies and remaining Borg there. The explosives will disable the vessel," she announced after a moment. 

"Ready," reported the Captain, standing back. 

"Transport in progress," affirmed Seven, "We should vacate the area immediately, the Colonel prefers chemical detonators, they are reliable and irreversible, but inaccurate timers, we have approximately five minutes before detonation." She recommended. 

"Another cube is on the sensors Captain," Advised Kim 

"Tom, full impulse, then maximum warp when available, get us out of here!" The Captain translated the recommendation into an order. "Chakotay, Engineering status?" 

"The Borg have gone, Captain," he replied, "They seemed to have lost the will to fight by the time I got here. Warp power will be available in about ten minutes." 

The Doctor stepped on the Bridge to find Seven of Nine cradling the Colonel's head. 

She looked up at him, "The Colonel has been damaged, he has a wound in the throat and may have been partially assimilated, you will treat him," she demanded. 

Suddenly flames were seen emitting from the giant cube, as the explosives sent with the Borg dead erupted. 

Seven scanned the Tactical Console, "The explosives have disabled the Borg Vessel. Power readings have ceased." She announced calmly. She turned back to the fallen Colonel. 

Quickly the Doctor stooped and examined the Colonel. He applied a hypo-spray, then turned to Seven, "He'll be all right," he claimed calmly. "There are no probes in him, it's just the loss of blood that made him collapse," He advised, "I'll get him to sickbay for treatment." 

For the first time in several minutes Seven of Nine appeared uncertain, "I witnessed the drone inject him," She protested. 

"Then he didn't inject him with enough," The Doctor argued, "His blood is highly resistant to infection, it may have destroyed them quicker than they could replicate themselves." 

Only then did Seven of Nine let herself go, sagging to the floor in tears of relief and fear. Gently the Captain took her hand, "Come with me, we need to talk," she commanded gently, helping her up. 

"Captain, something's wrong, there's a huge energy reading coming from the cube," shouted Kim, "It's forming a spatial rift." 

"Tom, get us away from that Cube!" she demanded. 

"It's no-good Captain, I can't get us away, something is pulling us in!" He called. 

"It is a temporal vortex," advised Tuvok taking his station and examining the readings. 

The ship lurched towards the vortex that was forming around the cube. 

They watched in horrified fascination as the cube disappeared into the vortex, "We're next, I can't hold her," Called Paris, unnecessarily. 

The view on the screen seemed to spin as they entered. It continued to turn for nearly five minutes, then they were ejected into a new region of space, the Borg ship barely 100 Km away from them. 

"Status?" Groaned the Captain, trying to get the dizziness from her head. 

"There are no life signs remaining on the Borg vessel Captain, the temporal vortex has closed," Tuvok advised. 

"Where are we?" She asked. 

"The computers working on it Captain," Announced Tom Paris, "I don't think we're in the Delta Quadrant though!" 

"Damage report?" She asked again hopefully. 

"Warp drive is out again, no estimate yet as to when it'll be online again," Tuvok replied quietly. 

"I'll be in the Ready Room, with Seven" she announced, "Let me know when there's some good news!" She led the distraught Seven into her room. 

As the door closed Seven of Nine collapsed into a chair and cried. The Captain watched her as the pent up emotions flowed unsure of what to do. A memory of a conversation she had with the Colonel came to mind, 'She's not an automaton she is human, she needs to feel cared for,' he had criticised her. She sat beside the distraught woman, putting her arm around her, pulling her close. Seven responded to the act, pushing her head into her shoulder. Eventually the tears stopped and she began to regain her composure. 

"I have recovered Captain!" She announced finally, regaining her composure. 

"Your command style seems to follow the Colonels pretty closely, is there something you want to tell me?" The Captain asked quietly. 

"I wanted to hold him, but he gave me an order and I couldn't refuse. I could feel him try to help me carry it out," she blurted confused. 

"The implant?" The Captain asked, "I'll get the Doctor to remove it." 

Seven considered the statement carefully, then answered, "No Captain. I do not wish to lose the intimate contact, it has been both enjoyable and comforting," she considered the last words. 

"Are you certain?" The Captain asked earnestly, "Nobody wants you to give him control of your mind, I suspect he would lead the protesters," she commented. 

"He has never attempted to use it without my permission and it has been helpful. He used it on this occasion because he was concerned for my safety and unable to function properly. It helped me to carry out the actions that were necessary to protect the ship, I wanted and needed his assistance," Seven confessed, still confused. 

"Think about it!" The Captain suggested, getting up to return to the Bridge. 

"I have Captain," Seven responded firmly, "I wish to go and see him." 

"Okay," the Captain agreed, "But I'll have to ask him the same question, he may see it differently," she warned, walking towards the door and the Bridge 

"Report?" she demanded, as she sat in her seat beside the newly returned Chakotay. 

"Warp power will be back on again in a couple of hours, but we're still not sure how we got here," he replied. "I think the answer is in that cube," he pointed at the dead ship on the screen. 

"The computer has a fix on our position, Captain," called Ensign Kim, "But I don't think your going to like it," he added. 

"Let's have it," she sighed. 

"The good news is, we are in the Alpha Quadrant, barely a light year from Earth," he announced grimly, "But we're six hundred years too early!" He added. 

She groaned, "One day we will have some good news without strings attached," she moaned. 

"Chakotay, take an away team to the cube and find out what caused the temporal vortex," she demanded. 

He nodded and left the Bridge with Tuvok, calling for Seven of Nine and Torres to join him in the Transporter room. 

Seven of Nine arrived in the Sick Bay to find the Colonel sitting on the couch with the Doctor fussing around him. 

When he saw her, he slid off the bed and walked towards her, leaving the Doctor cursing. 

"Really! I can't check if you are free of Borg probes if you keep moving," he protested. 

"Just accept the bastards failed!" The Colonel snapped, his irritation at the Doctors fussing showing. 

"Perhaps they decided I wasn't a worthy addition to the Collective," he added, grimly. 

He put his arms around Seven's slim frame and pulled her to him, "I seem to be forever in your dept. I am sorry you had to use the knife I gave you though, it is upsetting to see death so close for the first time, but it will pass. I am however as grateful as always," he whispered sadly, kissing her forehead. 

"You used the implant to make me carry out your instructions!" She snapped, pulling away from him. 

She looked into his haggard face, it looked alarmingly like it had a couple of weeks ago when he had collapsed. She also saw his eyes open in surprise. 

"No! I would never use our link like that," he denied hotly, "Not without your permission! You know that!" 

"Do not deny it, I felt it," She snapped back. 

"Never!" He denied again with passion. 

"Then what was it I felt?" She demanded, uncertain in the face of such adamant denial from the honest Colonel. 

He sat on the edge of a console, "They tried to tap into your implant," he confessed quietly, "I pushed them back. I let some of my demons out, I think they saw some things they didn't want to see!" 

"Why did you do it?" She asked shocked, "You could have been destroyed?" 

"I told you they would have to get past me, before they could threaten you. I meant it, no matter what the cost. They were threatening you, I responded in the only way I could," he answered flatly. 

Seven of Nine's communicator bleeped, calling her to Chakotay's away team. 

"Your in demand," the Colonel smiled, "You had better go. Don't worry, I won't go back to what I was without a fight and that is something I know about," he smiled softly, "I'll put them all back again, after a good cup of tea." 

She leant into him, putting her arms around him, briefly resting her head against his neck. They kissed gently, "Thank you," she whispered, turning to leave. 

"Get!" He smiled, smacking her bottom lightly, "You've got work to do." 

He watched her leave, walking tall and swaying, happy again. He sighed wistfully then turned back to the Doctor. 

"As you've finished meddling with your electric brain, Doctor, may I go and find some proper medical treatment?" He asked with a wicked smile. 

"And what would that be?" The Doctor asked in mock surprise. 

"The only thing in the Galaxy that is guaranteed to put injured men on the road to recovery," he announced impressively, "A good strong cup of NAAFI tea. Love it or loath it, you can't be ambivalent over it." 

"Very well you can go!" He agreed, "What Seven sees in you I can't imagine?" He added. 

"Nor can I, Doctor, that's what makes her so special," The Colonel admitted as he walked through the door. 

"Away team to Voyager," called Chakotay as the team looked around their beam in site, "We're aboard, the Borg appear to be all dead, but it doesn't appear to have been just the explosion." 

"Keep an open channel," Captain Janeway responded. 

"Will do, Chakotay out," He responded. 

He turned to Tuvok, who was examining an inactive Borg with a tri-corder. "Anything?" He asked. 

Tuvok looked up, "There is nothing mechanically or physically wrong with the drone," he announced impassively, "It appears it deactivated itself." 

"What could do that? It takes some major stress for the Borg to commit suicide?" Chakotay was shocked. 

"I believe the Colonel may have had an effect," Seven spoke up coolly, "When I was in Sick Bay with him he told me that he blocked a transmission meant for me. It released some of his old fears," she explained quietly. 

Tuvok blanched visibly, "That was unwise, they could have killed him," he commented with feeling. 

Chakotay looked at Tuvok in amazement, he had never seen him display such a degree of emotion. "How bad could they be?" He asked incredulously. 

"Commander, you do not wish to know," Tuvok replied still shaken. "Suffice it to say, they are disturbing even for a Vulcan." 

The team split up into pairs to search the cube. 

Following a small and intermittent reading upon her tricorder, Lieutenant Torres led Tuvok through the maze of catwalks and corridors, eventually they met a strange machine that had not been integrated into the ship's systems. It appeared to be a simple box about 1.5 Metres cubed, unusual hieroglyphs marked a control panel on one of its matt black sides. They approached the strange device carefully. 

"The Borg have a new device aboard," Torres announced over the intercom, "I think it may be the item that created the vortex," she continued, "Seven, I need your help to examine it." 

"This is not Borg technology," Seven confirmed a few minutes later and examining her tricorder carefully, "There is a multi-phase Tacion emitter and additional devices that I am unfamiliar with. It has been damaged by a power overload. We should beam it to the ship for closer examination," she declared finally. 

She moved to a console and examined that, finally she activated some of the controls. "We will have to download additional information to the ship," she announced, "The device was responsible for the vortex." 

Chakotay nodded his agreement. "Away Team to Voyager, we think we have found the cause of our predicament, beam it to Cargo Bay 2, we need a comm. link to download data Seven of Nine has found about it," he called. 

"Beaming it out now Commander. Link available," the cool reply came. 

The Senior Officers gathered for a staff meeting two hours after the Away Team returned. 

"Let's start at the top," announced Janeway, "What killed the Borg?" 

"The Verniculum that controls their thoughts shut down during the overload, without its protection they went insane with pain," Tuvok announced grimly, "The Colonel may also have had an effect." 

"How?" She asked pointedly. 

"Captain, my logs show that a high-power sub-space transmission was directed at my Neural Implants," explained Seven. "The Colonel blocked it, the presence I felt was not him trying to make me carry out his instruction, but the residue from the transmission." 

"Where and how did you create a signal that strong without it affecting Seven?" She asked incredulously, looking at the Colonel, he still looked tired and drawn from the encounter. 

"I simply carried out my duty, Ma'am. I'd do it again, but it was like ripping out a transplanted organ just because it's the wrong colour." The Colonel replied quietly, "I think the concentration I put into it blew it up though! I can't feel it anymore," there was a trace of sadness in the voice. Seven reached for his hand and patted it for comfort. 

"Okay, how about the Time Machine. Why did they have one?" Captain Janeway pressed on. 

"There was data I was able to download from the computer matrix," Seven of Nine started, "The device was obtained when they assimilated race 10283, the Trilurians. The vessel was one of eight designated to test the device. Seven of the Borg cubes were instructed to follow Voyager when we were detected. Our ruse was successful, they followed the probes we launched," she confided. 

"They intended to use the device's properties to allow travel in time and space to aid in an assimilation of the Alpha Quadrant, the explosion we set off caused it to activate prematurely." 

"They intended to arrive here in the past?" The Captain spoke slowly and carefully. 

"Precisely," Seven admitted. 

"Can we use it to return to the right time as well as location?" Asked Chakotay. 

"Details for calculating the settings for the device were not recoverable," Seven admitted uncomfortably, "However the device does have a 'Return to origin' function in its matrix." 

"Can we use that?" Chakotay asked, "Even the Delta quadrant is nearer to home than where we are." 

"The machine was badly damaged," advised Torres quickly, "We are working on it, but there are some parts we can't replicate." 

"Can we improvise or manufacture them?" the Captain asked quickly. 

"We aren't sure what they do," answered Torres, "If we could get the materials then perhaps we could reproduce them," she added looking at the Colonel pointedly. 

"Why look at me?" he asked in surprise. 

"Because you are the only person on the ship, who may be able to arrange the parts we need," she replied simply. 

"I think I've missed something," he commented, "Would somebody care to enlighten me as to where exactly here is?" 

"You don't know yet?" The Captain was surprised, "We have jumped six hundred years back in time, as near as we can tell you are within two years of where you started out," she explained breathlessly. 

"Ah, I see," he announced, "You are hoping that I may be able to touch up a few people from my past to get you the bits, before I go," he thought for a moment. 

"Very well, I'll have a look at the parts you want and find a supply for you, Ma'am," He said in resignation. 

He stood, "I assume you will wish me to leave quickly and quietly, so I'll pack now, ready for your convenience, Ma'am," he announced flatly. 

Saluting he left, leaving the rest of the room staring at each other in stunned amazement. 

"No!" Seven gasped in alarm, "He thinks we will force him to leave!" 

"It's his home. It's where he belongs," the captain pointed out. "But we won't throw him off," she assured the alarmed Seven of Nine. 

"Voyager is his home," protested Seven petulantly. "Captain, when you released me from the Collective. You refused to allow me to return to the collective, despite my wish to do so, because you believed I did not belong with the Borg, because I had been changed. He no longer belongs with what he knew, because we have changed him!" Seven of Nine argued immediately. 

"We've stopped him leaving before. When he believed himself to be a danger to you, because there was no where for him to go," the Captain claimed gently. "We are near his real home, we can't stop him this time," she added calmly. 

"It is debatable that we have used and benefited from his services, but now you wish to dispose of him with a clean conscience," Seven snapped petulantly, "People expect him to perform his duty then disappear as if he had never existed. He applied that definition to those that required him to perform the tasks he was set on Earth. Perhaps he should also apply them to us?" 

"You're saying, he is preparing to leave just because he expects us to want him to go?" Chakotay asked. 

"He believes it would save embarrassment for the Captain," Seven claimed hotly. 

The Captain sighed heavily, "It's those regulations again, and his sense of duty," she commented, "He's bound to them so tight, I could throttle him with them." 

She looked around the room, "Can anybody give me a good reason for him not to go?" 

"He's incredibly useful when we're in a scrape," suggested Kim earnestly. 

"That is true, but we have survived 'scrapes' before," Tuvok pointed out, "He has sworn a pledge to protect the ship and Seven of Nine, the later was affirmed less than 24 hours ago." 

"But the one to serve his army was made more than thirty years ago," pointed out Chakotay, "It probably means as much to him. He is tactically gifted though, we've seen how he predicts events in an emergency, we've seen how he has taught the crew to think and react in an emergency. He is a valuable member of the crew." 

But his actions are in contravention to Star Fleet Protocols! Protested Tuvok. 

Who cares, they work better than Star Fleets rules! Exclaimed B'Elanna Torres. 

"Anything against?" Asked the exasperated Captain. 

"He still struggles with the technology," Tuvok announced immediately. 

"He'll never be approved by Star Fleet, he'd shake it to its core," announced Paris with a grin. 

"Perhaps it needs a good shake," commented the Captain viciously. 

"I'm going to try and get him to stay," she decided after some thought, "He has given everything to help us, and he has suffered because of things we've tried to do to him. We owe it to him to make sure he knows he has the choice of staying." 

"If you fail, I will remain with him," Seven of Nine threatened, her fine features hardening. 

"He'll not let you," the captain pointed out kindly, "Adapting to the life he leads would be more difficult than his adjustments to match us." She got up and left. 

The packing of his belongings was the longest and hardest hour of the Colonels' life. As he packed his equipment in to his pack, he thought back over the things he had seen and done in his 18 months on Voyager. He was going to miss everything he thought sadly, the friends, their quiet confidence and encouragement in his struggle to come to terms with the things he didn't understand. The way they had looked to him for help, encouragement and advice in times of need. There was something even more important he was going to leave behind. His heart and soul, he had given it freely to one special person, and she had seemingly returned her own. The realization hurt him to the core. Finally he shrugged the pack on and made for the door, to be met by Captain Janeway. 

"Is that all you have after eighteen months?" She asked in shock seeing his pack. "One, half empty rucksack? You have fewer belongings than Seven!" 

"I've told you before Ma'am. I travel and live light," he pointed out. 

"We don't intend to throw you off the ship!" she blurted. 

"That is a pity," he confessed slowly, "Things would be much easier if you were, it would make the breaking of one or other set of pledges seem that much easier." 

"I don't want to go, but I must return. It's time to stop fooling myself. That I'm an explorer and spaceman, have friends and family, the love of a beautiful young woman and all the other things I thought only existed in dreams. Now I must wake up, go home and do my duty," he continued, his voice sharp with desperation and sadness. 

"You are part of this ship, you don't have to leave! We would like you to stay." She protested. 

"I still do not belong here. I still can't even get the replicators to work reliably," he said desperately. "I've put people and things in danger too often, I've got to go for everybody's sake." 

But you've rescued us from far worse danger than you've put us in! The Captain claimed. 

"How about Seven? She loves you, she's just claimed she will follow you and you will care for her," she asked, desperate now. 

"She mustn't," he whispered, swallowing hard, "She belongs here, I belong on the Earth 600 years before you were born. I'll always love her, please tell her that!" he added softly. 

Seeing a deep sadness in his eyes, she tried a different approach. "You broke your sword, saving us, perhaps we still need your protection?" 

He sighed, "I can forge a new one, it's only steel and I was only doing my duty," he replied. 

"You have friends on Earth?" She asked, desperately searching for any argument. 

"Yes, I have a couple of friends," he admitted quietly. "They were not like those I have on this ship, they were 'workmates', people to go to the pub with and share the day's experiences, here it's like a social family. I've never even had a family before! I've even found love and kept it safe nearly as long as my marriage, but even that is different, it's deeper somehow. You think I've helped Miss Nine find her humanity, I'll tell you it's been a two-way process, I've found people here who can explain it to me," he explained despondently. 

He sighed deeply, "Forgive me Ma'am, the outburst was inappropriate," he declared recovering, "I shall learn how to do without again and return to my duty, I hope it's still there!" He finished in resignation. 

He stood to attention and saluted her smartly. "It has been a privilege to meet and serve with you, Ma'am. I'll have a look at the parts Lieutenant Torres requires then await your convenience," he announced calmly and marched out, leaving the Captain staring after him, totally bemused. 

"I've come to look at your bits, Lieutenant," the Colonel announced entering Cargo Bay 2. 

"They're on the bench," Torres called, getting up from the machine. 

He examined the parts on the bench carefully as she joined him. 

"I recognise some of these. Your not taking the piss are you?" He asked in surprise, "Are you sure you can't replicate them?" 

"You can't possibly!" Disputed Lieutenant Torres, "There's nothing like them on the ship!" 

"Don't care what you have on the ship," he claimed stubbornly, "I do know what some of these are!" He insisted. 

He picked up a length of buckled rectangular tube, "This for instance looks very like a microwave conduit, simple aluminium. The insides have been plated granted and it is bigger than the ones on our command and communications trucks, but that is what it is. That yellow ball I've seen somewhere as well," he pointed to a yellow sphere 18" in diameter, "And as for this circuit board," he announced waving a flat board at her, "You're having me on, aren't you?" 

Torres was stunned by the comments and became flustered. "Nobody channels microwaves through aluminium, the loses are too high!" She claimed desperately, "The tricorder says it is an unusual alloy of gold." 

"Can't help what your tricorder says," he countered harshly, "This tube is not an alloy of gold or any other metal, it's too light." 

"I worry for the future of mankind when he can't believe his God given senses," he commented quietly, as Torres reached for her communicator. 

"Torres to Captain." 

"Janeway here," came the instant reply. 

"The Colonel is with me in the Cargo Bay looking at the parts we require, he thinks we've made a mistake," she called. 

"What sort of mistake?" The Captain asked in surprise. 

"He's just identified most of the parts we need," she replied simply. 

"I'll be right down. I'll bring Tuvok and Seven!" The Captain announced. 

"If I may, I'll have a look at this machine of yours?" The Colonel decided. 

The Captain arrived less than ten minutes later. "Report?" She snapped entering the bay. 

"Somebody is having a huge practical joke at your expense, Captain," The Colonel announced, standing up from a close examination of the Time Machine. 

"This machine," he kicked it in disgust, "Is a back shed lash up! I suspect the only reason it's still in one piece, is because it's so badly made!" 

"That's the considered technical appraisal of a caveman is it?" She asked sternly, "Where's B'Elanna?" 

"She scuttled off to find a new tricorder," he said, "I upset her when I told her to stop taking the piss." 

"Why do you think she was taking the 'piss'?" She asked cautiously. 

"Because she took the tricorders' readings as gospel and didn't look at it with her eyes and hands," he replied evenly. 

"Go on?" She prompted, as both Tuvok and Seven approached the damaged parts with their tricorders. 

"That ball for instance," he pointed to the globe, "Lieutenant Torres claimed was gold and sulphur alloy. I'm not very good with replicator alchemy, but I do know a little metallurgy. I'll tell you nobody will cast a metal with that much sulphur in it. Perhaps that's why you can't replicate it!" 

"How do you explain the tricorder readings?" Asked Tuvok, offering his tricorder to the Colonel. 

"If I see a bird that, flies, waddles, swims and quacks like a duck, then I say, 'That is a duck'. I ignore the placard it's carrying that says, 'I am a dog'," the Colonel snapped, "That ball started life as sulphur, it was then coated in gold. I don't know why or how, and I don't know why the maker did it so badly." 

"Perhaps the questions you should ask are, 'Is this the machine that caused your time shift?', 'Does it have to be made so badly for it to work at all?' And perhaps, ' Who on Earth actually made it?' Then perhaps we could go and ask him for spares and a manual," He continued harshly. 

"You weren't using the last question figuratively were you? You believe it was made on the Earth?" The Captain asked carefully, catching the inflection. 

"No, Ma'am, I wasn't," he admitted. "I found some part numbers and familiar symbols on some of the undamaged parts. I can even tell you it was built sometime after 1987 and he probably lives in the United Kingdom." 

They gazed at him in stunned silence as they took in the full implication of what he was claiming. Somebody from the Twentieth Century had designed and built an operational time machine. The claim was as incredible as it was fantastic. 

"You are very certain," Tuvok claimed at last, "Can your claims be proved?" 

"Circumstantially. Yes," the Colonel nodded. 

Picking up the microwave guide he had examined earlier, he handed it to Tuvok. "On the flange where I've scrapped the gold off, you can see a small arrow and two sets of numbers," he described. "The lower number says 1986, the upper number matches Ministry of Defence pattern as does the arrow. The tube was manufactured in 1986, I suspect it was a reject because there is no serial number. There are several other parts marked similarly, there are even maker's marks on some of the chips on the board that needs replacing." 

They looked at each other in amazement. 

"Okay, how do we find the person who made it?" asked the Captain brightly. 

"I've made a note of some of the part and serial numbers, Ma'am. It might be possible to trace them when I get back to Earth," suggested the Colonel. "But it will take some time, he may not have built it yet, or may have strapped himself to the thing when he set it off. He may even have been locked away in a looney bin by now, the idea of time travel is far fetched," he pointed out. 

"We have six hundred years," the Captain pointed out, "We'll start looking!" 

She hit her communicator, "Captain to Paris, set course for Earth, full impulse," she ordered heading for the door, followed by Tuvok. 

Seven of Nine delayed her departure. I wish you to stay, she declared quietly to the Colonel. 

He looked at her in surprise. No, you don't, he assured her. There will be somebody more deserving of you than I am. You will forget me in a few weeks. 

I forget nothing, she retorted. I wish to remain in your company. I have feelings for you. 

She moved closer, placing an arm around him, reaching up to offer a kiss, but he broke away. 

Please! Don't make this any more difficult than it already is! he whispered desperately. 

He turned and staggered for the door, leaving Seven of Nine watching him in despair. 

Lieutenant Torres had watched silently from behind the time machine came up and took Seven of Nine's arm, turning her around to face her. 

Seven, you okay? She asked, seeing the distraught look on the ex-Borgs face. 

I wish him to stay! Seven of Nine said carefully controlling her voice. Yet he wishes to leave me. 

There was real anguish in those blue eyes, B'Elanna decided, and she felt for her. 

He doesn't, not really. He doesn't think he has a choice, now we are close to his Earth! B'Elanna tried to explain. 

Just let the Captain work on it, she continued. You won't be the only one that will miss him if he goes. She will as well. It means she is as determined as hell to keep him. 

Seven of Nine considered the engineers comments, then straightened up. We will see, she declared more stiffly. The Colonel will remain on the ship. With that she marched stiffly from the bay, leaving B'Elanna gazing after her in concern. 

Revision 23

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   [1]: mailto:story@rgower.f9.co.uk



	3. We'll Keep a Welcome

# We'll Keep a Welcome

_After it's brush with a Borg cube, Voyager finds itself in orbit above a late 20th Century Earth. It leaves the Captain with an uncomfortable decision and all her questions answered. Both the Colonel and Seven of Nine also find they have choices to make.._

_Voyager and characters (except the Colonel) in this story are copyright of Paramount. No resemblance is intended to any person alive or dead._

_The story line the Colonel and additional characters are my own._

_Constructive criticism and comments are welcome on e-mail [story@rgower.f9.co.uk][1]._

_If like me you like to know why things occur like they do, I would heartily recommend you start at chapter 1-01 Castaway._

_This story is rated PG13_

_©R Gower 2000_

  
  


Four-days after their brush with the Borg and their time machine, Voyager slid silently into a high orbit around the Earth. It had been a journey that was typified by Seven of Nine desperately trying to keep close to the Colonel, and him desperately trying to keep away. To try and encourage a gap to form between them, he had moved his quarters, nobody was certain where, though his pack had been seen in the shuttle bay.

In a last desperate attempt to get him to agree to stay with the ship, the Captain ordered him to attend a private dinner with Chakotay, Seven of Nine and herself. He had accepted the order, but it had been obvious from the moment he arrived that despite the calm exterior, the feelings he obviously felt for her and vice a versa, their close proximity was hurting him deeply. Finally she gave up. Though she noted that when they finally parted, Seven of Nine had managed to get herself close enough to the Colonel to hold him tightly. The Colonels eyes had been bright with tears as he finally managed to prise himself away. There was some cause for hope, she reasoned.

She promised herself to make damn sure she got to talk to his Commanding Officer, if not for herself and the ship, then for the comfort of Seven of Nine.

Despite the misgivings of the Captain, fearing he would simply disappear, the Colonel was beamed, on his own, to a quiet road three miles from the camp he had identified as his regiments home barracks. He took a moment to look around and ensure himself he had not been spotted then moved to a telephone booth. He did not want his mysterious appearance to be spotted if possible, nor did he want to have to explain away a formal Away Team to all and sundry, until he had a chance of talking to his own boss.

Quickly he dialled a number from memory, "General's office," a male voice replied.

"Lieutenant-Colonel Samuels, Sir," he replied calmly, "Permission to report to you, Sir?"

There was a gasp at the other end of the line, then, "Where the Hell have you been? No, never mind, tell me when you get here, I'll have the Sergeant-Major waiting for you at the gate in?"

"Thirty minutes Sir," the Colonel responded.

Putting the phone down he set of at his steady quick march.

Lieutenant-General Fletcher glared at the phone for several minutes, not believing the brief conversation he had just had. Finally deciding that the voice he had just heard must have been genuine he bellowed, "Corporal Armitage!"

The balding head of his secretary, Corporal Armitage, appeared around the door frame, "Sir!" It snapped.

"Who's on the gate tonight, us or the Guards?" He asked irritably.

"The Guards, Sir!"

"Go and find the Sergeant-Major, give him my compliments and tell him I owe him a tenner, then tell him to go to the Guard Room and wait. He's not to allow the Guards to be hurt. He'll know what I mean," he ordered.

"Sir," the head disappeared, to be replaced by the sounds of a rapidly receding quick march.

The Gate Guard watched the tall figure approach at a fast but steady gait, prepared to challenge the stranger when he came within 50 yards of the gate he was guarding. He levelled his rifle threateningly, but was brought up short by the stranger speaking first.

"I know you're only a Guardsman, but you should know better than to hold a rifle like that!" He snapped, "Now kindly tell Sergeant-Major O'Neil to stop hiding in the guardroom?"

The Guard looked at the stranger carefully, then snapped to attention, spotting the Colonel's rank. "Sir, I must have positive identification, Sir!" He snapped back.

"Unfortunately my 20-50 got destroyed a few years ago," the Colonel replied levelly, "That is why I have an appointment with General Fletcher, and the Sergeant-Major is waiting for me in the Guard Room. Now if you would be so kind?" He explained patiently.

The Sergeant Major stepped out, a broad smile on his face. "Jesus, I was beginning to think you'd really got yourself killed this time Sir!" He announced happily, snapping to attention and saluting.

The Colonel returned his salute, "You know my opinion on blasphemy Sergeant-Major?"

"Sir! Sorry Sir, But you've changed, I barely recognised you!" He replied, still smiling.

"Excuse me Sir. Who should I put in the visitors book?" The nervous guard asked.

"This," the Sergeant-Major announced proudly, "Is the Lieutenant-Colonel Samuels, of the 60th."

Turning to the Colonel he intoned, "This way Sir!"

They set off at regimental quick march. The gate guard watched them go, "Who is he, Sarge?" he asked of the Duty Sergeant.

"The biggest, meanest, toughest and most evil bastard ever to be put in command of a regiment," the old sergeant replied knowingly. "If he's back just be thankful you're nice and safe in the Guards and stand behind him, son."

"Lieutenant Colonel Samuels and Sergeant-Major O'Neil, Sir," announced Corporal Armitage happily, ushering the Colonel into the General's office.

The Colonel came to attention and snapped a salute.

"At least you've remembered how to salute, even if you forget how to return to barracks," General Fletcher barked, returning the salute and smiling.

"Sir!"

"Stand at ease, better still sit down. You look distinctly well for somebody listed MIA, been sunning yourself on a beach?" General Fletcher commanded, stepping back and examining the tall soldier cynically.

"Sir!" The Colonel snapped in shock at the preposterous suggestion.

"Then you had better tell me why it's taken you two years to find your way back then hadn't you? And just as importantly why you look as young as those snotty nose kids from Sandhurst?" Fletcher growled, "Then I'll work out what to do with you."

"Sergeant Major, arrange some tea, then make sure we are left alone. Armitage take notes, I'll edit it later," he ordered, passing the Sergeant-Major a crisp ten-pound note, "My dues," he intoned.

"Sir! Knew you were a gentleman Sir!" The Sergeant Major crowed taking the money and left.

The Colonel related his story to the increasingly incredulous General.

"If I didn't know the circumstances of your disappearance, I wouldn't believe a word of your story," General Fletcher growled, when the Colonel finished his tale.

"I keep expecting to hear of your precipitous demise, perhaps the S/M is right, you can't be killed. At least you seem to have upheld the honour and traditions of the Regiment, impossible odds and all," He admitted. "Wafting around with a bunch of foreigners in the 26th Century and accepting a field commission in a foreign service is no good, nobody will believe it. Are they a threat to us?"

"Sir! Their rules prohibit them to get involved with worlds that have not made interstellar contact." The Colonel responded emphatically, "Captain Janeway follows the rules!"

"You trust them?"

"Sir!"

General Fletcher grunted, "And they must trust you, otherwise you wouldn't be here," he commented, "When can I meet the people who you've been looking after?"

"You wish to meet them, Sir?" The Colonel asked in surprise.

"Of course, how else can I validate your story? It's fantastic even by your standards," He replied levelly.

"Sir! The General will remember I do not lie, Sir. And it will be contrary to their Rules of Engagement, Sir!" The Colonel protested.

"The alternative is I get the MO in and have you certified insane?" The General threatened.

It was the Colonel's turn to sigh. "I'll contact them directly, Sir. Will this afternoon do, Sir?"

"I'll ensure we are on the gate," the General agreed levelly.

"Sir! That will not be necessary, I can have them beam themselves to the hanger?"

"Pardon me, it's high technology week," the General apologised sardonically, "That will do nicely. C Company can meet them. We'll have lunch and you can tell me about this Miss Seven of Nine, you deliberately avoided telling me about."

"Don't look surprised at me, Colonel, I've served with you all your army life, what you don't tell me is as evident as what you do," he smiled.

"Armitage advise the Mess I want the private room. Then advise Major Fletcher that we will have guests for dinner."

"Sir!" Announced the Corporal and disappeared.

"You've taken quite a shine to this, Miss Nine haven't you?" The General probed over their lunch.

"Yes Sir," the Colonel admitted.

"As much as your wife?"

"I'm sorry to say, Sir, I think it may be deeper," he admitted again.

"Why did you come back, you stupid sod?" The General queried, shaking his head in despair, "If you hadn't, there would be nothing to worry about."

"Voyager needs the parts I told you about, Sir. I had to return."

The General sighed, "What time will they arrive? And who will they be?"

"15:00 hours, Sir. Captain Janeway, Commander Chakotay and Miss Nine will form the party I believe."

"Permission to ask a question, Sir?"

"Carry on Colonel," the General agreed carefully, he had worried about when the questions would appear.

"Why are we back in the UK, Sir?"

"We've pulled out of Belize remember?" The General replied, "The Americans have decided they don't need us to look after them anymore. But we are still the first up on the quick and dirty list. Colonel Smithe is proving to be a good replacement for you, but then you knew that, you trained him," he assured him.

"Yes Sir," the Colonel replied thoughtfully.

"I need to see the blacksmith this afternoon Sir, my sword was damaged a couple of days ago and I need to see about a replacement. Permission to leave the camp Sir?" He asked.

"Provided you back in time to see your friends," the General replied evenly, "You're not good at goodbyes, but this is one you will have to make in person. So if you're not back, I will send the guard after you!"

"Sir!" The reply was crestfallen. He got up, saluted and left.

The local village blacksmith was a craftsman of his trade, more importantly to the Colonel, he had also been one of the ex-convicts that had made up the regiment, and knew the nature of the Colonels favoured close quarters weapon. He had served his time and had managed to set up his smithy near the barracks of his old regiment, with his due's to society duly wiped.

"Corporal Jones?" The Colonel called entering the workshop and looking around.

"Colonel Sir!" The smith called in delight, "I thought you'd finally bought it?"

"You know my reputation, Corporal. I'm very difficult to kill off!"

"Sir! What brings you to my humble shop? I'm still clean!" He grinned.

"I need your help. You remember that sword I always used?" The Colonel queried.

"Three foot, multilayered semi-straight steel blade, copper and silver inlayed and engraved, half guard, leather bound handle. Presented by the Japanese ambassador 1987," the smith recalled.

"That's the one. I broke it, I'd like a new one, if you think you can manage it?"

The smith drew in his breath, "That was a superb blade Sir, it must have taken some poor sod months to make," he pondered.

"I know and you're a superb blacksmith if I remember right Corporal," the Colonel complimented, "I know certain cavalry officers still come to you for new ceremonial swords, this is your chance to make a real one!"

The smith considered the prospects carefully, to replace the blade would be a feat of workmanship, especially as the Colonel would almost certainly use it to its full capability. "I'll do it for you, Sir!" He announced at last. "I assume you want it quickly? I've a few jobs on at the moment, but I can put them aside for a couple of days and I have a couple of blanks for a nob in the Household Cavalry, I can use one of those. Give me three days then come and see me for measuring Sir!"

"Thank you Corporal. I know there's a lot of work in it. How much will it cost?"

The smith pondered the question carefully. "Well Sir," he said at last, "It's like this Sir. There will be about 100 lbs of steel needed to make a sword like that, because most of it gets burnt away, the copper and silver will easily cost £100, plus the work, you're looking at a grand, Sir."

The Colonel blanched visibly.

The Smith saw him flinch and continued quickly, "You helped set me up proper like, without the fuzz peering down my neck every time a safe is blown, then there was the schooling you got for the kids, Sir. Let's call it quits Sir!" He pleaded in a fit of compassion for his former Commanding Officer.

"Thank you very much, Corporal. If you're sure? Then I'm very grateful to you," the Colonel announced in surprise, taken aback by the generosity of his ex-corporal.

From the smithy he walked to the village church, via a small wooded glade. Noting the primroses and bluebells in bloom, he stopped to pick a few to make into a posy, then continued his stroll into the church cemetery. Carefully he picked his way through the stones until he found one small grave stone near the wall, there he knelt and gently laid his posy in front of the stone.

"I'm sorry love, but I've been away, it's the best I could do," he apologised to it, then settled down to pray for his ex-wife's forgiveness, his inability to place flowers and for having fallen in love with someone else. Unconsciously his hand strayed into his tunic and withdrew his wedding ring which he started to twist in his hand as he prayed.

He was startled by a hand alighting on his shoulder and looked around to find the vicar of the parish.

"Not many people come and mourn in the soldier's cemetery, my son," claimed the elderly cleric, "Was it one of your family?"

"It was my wife Sir! You should know, you conducted the Service!" The Colonel stood to face the portly Cleric.

The Parson looked hard at the tall man in front of him.

"You can't be," he announced sharply, "You look nothing like him, there's no scars and you're much too young."

The Colonel sighed, "Despite appearances, I am whom I claim to be. And I've done organ recitals in your church in aid of various causes for nearly twenty years. I also have more pressing problems, Sir!" He tried to dismiss the troublesome man.

The Parson studied him carefully. "I can see you are troubled Son, would you like to confess them to me and the Lord?"

The Colonel pondered the question, "Talking may help me find a couple of answers," he agreed at last. "But I warn you, you won't believe a word I say!"

"Perhaps, but the good book says the Lord sees everything, does it not? Come into the Church. Perhaps you will demonstrate how well you used to play?" The vicar commanded.

For the second time that day, Colonel Samuels found himself explaining the last two years of his absence.

The Captain and her away party beamed to the coordinates given them by the Colonel, to be met by the regiments C Company. They stared bemused at the thirty fully armed soldiers as they snapped through the rhythmic sequence of 'Present Arms'. A middle aged woman approached them and snapped a salute to them.

"Major Anne Fletcher, C Company, 60th Rifles!" She introduced herself formally, "We were requested to meet you, Captain. Would you care to inspect the guard?"

"I can see they match the Colonel's standards for presentation," Captain Janeway complimented the Major, after strolling down the rank of immaculate soldiers, "He always makes me feel a little scruffy," she added with a smile.

"We try Captain," the Major agreed, as her company fell in around them, "If you would care to follow us?"

"Do we get a choice?"

"No," she admitted cheerfully, then called in a louder voice, "C Company, by the left, forward march."

Their guard started to march, at the same pace the Captain noticed with horror, as the Colonel always used.

"Doesn't anybody here walk?" She moaned to the Major as they were swept along at a fast jog.

"Walk Captain? No, this is a Rifle Regiment, we march, the fastest marching troops in the world, We leave walking to the Guards!" The major informed her impassively.

"What do you do if you need to get somewhere quickly?" The Captain gasped when they arrived outside the General's office.

"We march faster," came the glib reply as she and her party were shown into the office.

The General was waiting for them, he saluted and bowed towards them as they entered.

"Lieutenant-General Horace Fletcher, Captain Janeway, at your service Ma'am," he introduced himself, then gallantly took her hand and kissed it.

"This is where the Colonel got his manners from?" She asked in delight.

"Actually it was the other way round," the General admitted, "He believes that no matter what the status of a woman, they would all like to be treated as a lady, blow me if he's not right!"

The Captain examined the General in amusement. He was well over fifty years in age, his greying hair thinning. Not as tall as the Colonel at perhaps 1.8 Metres, but broader, suggesting a less regimented exercise regime.

"May I introduce the rest of my party?" She asked brightly.

"Please do!"

"My second officer, Commander Chakotay."

"Commander," the General greeted him with a salute and warm handshake, taking Chakotay quite by surprise.

"And Seven of Nine," she finished.

"Miss Nine."

He examined her straight frame closely. "It's a pleasure to meet anybody who can impress Samuels as it appears you have done. It's most remarkable!" He greeted her, kissing her hand as he had the Captains, while she gazed on impassively.

He turned back to the party, "Samuels has been impressed by you and your crew, Captain. Believe me, that is not an easy distinction to achieve." He announced, "But before you begin to impress me, can I get you refreshments, tea or coffee? And please make yourselves comfortable!"

"Thank you! Tea would be quite acceptable," the Captain spoke for them.

"Armitage!" The General shouted for his secretary.

"Sir!" The Corporal's smiling face appeared around the door frame.

"Tea all round, civilian strength, we have guests!"

"Sir!" He disappeared again.

"Would have made some lady a wonderful wife, that man," he commented brightly. "Now Captain. Lieutenant-Colonel Samuels has itemised the parts you need for your ship. I find them a little surprising, but I have agreed to assist you. I've got people looking into them for you right now. I don't know how well we'll do and it might take a day or two. I've also tapped into a couple of nutty professors I know at the University, they may have an idea as to who the lunatic is, that invented the machine you're having problems with. If you can supply the damaged parts to me, I can have our workshop look at them to see if we can manufacture anything else you need. If you have any better ideas then I'm all ears?" He briefed her rapidly

"I've nothing to suggest," she admitted in amazement, "Thank you for your cooperation."

"It's not a problem, the sooner we can get rid of you the less likely some idiot with a telescope will spot your ship. If that happens we'll have the Americans taking pot shots at it simply because it's not theirs, it would end in a war!"

"There are other reasons why I wanted to meet you, both official and unofficial. The official reason is that I need independent affirmation for the Colonel's testimony, then perhaps some idea as to what to actually put in his debriefing notes and what to do with him now?"

"You do not believe him?" Seven protested in shock.

"My dear Miss Nine," General Fletcher replied comfortably. "The only reason he is not under close arrest now, awaiting a shrink to pronounce him barmy and I am talking to you now, is because I know he is totally honest and hasn't the imagination to make up the story he told. I'm told he was abducted by aliens during a fire fight, the only proof I have is the word of a Sergeant-Major who is devoted to him. To a shrink that would scream he ran from a skirmish and they would hold up his record to prove he must have cracked at last. Two years later he turns up with another group of aliens that he claims are friendly and from 600 years in the future. Even worse he claims he has fallen in love with one of them and he has taken a commission in their service. That is the sure sign of a madman!"

"The trouble is I have superiors as well, and they are faceless bureaucrats' who have neither an ounce of imagination, nor the privilege of knowing the Colonel," he confessed, bitterness showing in his voice. "I have told them he was abducted, simply because it would cause too many problems otherwise, but I won't tell them anything about aliens. A few rumours won't make a difference, I can write those off as the residual effects of Jungle Fever' to them upstairs. Me saying one of my men has spent two years swanning around the Cosmos is going to raise eyebrows."

"I need an independent view of the truth. Then I can get Armitage to rework it into an acceptable form for the closed minds at the MOD and the fevered imagination of our illustrious American allies," he smiled encouragingly.

"Where is the Colonel?" asked the Captain curiously, "We had thought he would meet us? Not hiding from us is he?"

"He requested to go and see Jones the blacksmith, apparently he broke that damned sword of his in a disagreement with somebody. I hope you will enlighten me? It's not an issue weapon, but he was attached to it."

"He should be back by now though," he commented, "Major ask S/M O'Neil to go and find him would you?"

"Sir!" Came the instant reply, as the Major ran out the room.

"Now Captain, your version of his story?" The General commanded.

Captain Janeway sat back and commenced to tell the story of Voyager and the Colonel's involvement.

When the Colonel finished his tale, the parson exclaimed, "I remember you now!"

"You always seemed to be giving and refusing to accept anything from those around you, simply because it was your duty!" The Parson reminisced. "Giving everything you have is very noble, but others have to be able to give to you as well. Perhaps you should take this as a second chance to live properly and accept that others would like to give to you as well?"

"You believe that this Miss Seven of Nine and the people who looked after you are still in danger, despite your actions?" He continued.

"Yes Sir!"

"And you are truly in love with Miss Nine? I remember the escort that your regiment gave you to make sure you arrived, would they need it again?"

"Yes Sir, I am. The second question doesn't apply, I have been married," he answered with certainty.

"It is possible to have a second marriage conducted in church under the right conditions, and your case would qualify," the old parson informed him gently.

"Does she love you?"

"She seems very fond of me," the Colonel admitted carefully.

The cleric grunted.

"Give me that ring you're playing with," he ordered a ring of steel appearing in his quiet voice, as he pointed to the ring the Colonel was still twisting between his fingers.

Before the Colonel could protest he snatched the wedding ring from out of his hand and examined it, "I shall put this where it belongs, with your ex-wife," he announced, before the shocked Colonel could protest.

"It's time you followed your heart, not your duty. See Horace when you get back to barracks and get him to release you and persuade Captain Janeway to take you with her. Bring your Miss Nine here for blessing, then when you come to your senses it won't matter," he commanded firmly.

"It's not that simple Padre!" Exclaimed the aghast Colonel.

"Yes it is! Do you think you're the first man I've seen who is scared of the possible consequences of getting involved with a woman, simply because he might die tomorrow," He responded sharply, "Think about it, Samuels!"

"Now I see Patrick O'Neil is looking for you, so it is time you went. I will see you tomorrow. Good afternoon Alan Samuels," the Parson turned towards his vestry.

"General's compliments, Sir!" Announced Sergeant Major O'Neil, "Your presence is requested by the General Sir!"

The Colonel sighed, "Carry on Sergeant Major."

The Captain finished her version of the Colonel's story. The General pondered it carefully. Then started, "You are sure there was only forty Borg on your Bridge?"

"The figure is accurate," Seven of Nine interrupted.

"He claimed there were twenty, I thought he'd lost his edge getting hurt. In this regiment odds like that are considered quite good," the General breezed.

"These Borg continue to be a threat to your vessel?" He continued.

"We avoid them when we can," the Captain admitted, "But yes, they are a threat to everybody not just us!"

"And these other small adventures, his services have been useful?"

"They have been invaluable," the Captain assured him.

"And he's kept out of things, unless specifically requested to get involved, or his involvement is imperative?"

"Yes!"

"At least he's been following standing orders," the General commented.

"He never strays from the things. Why are you asking these questions?" Demanded Captain Janeway, sitting up straight in her chair.

The General sighed, "I've known Samuels virtually all his adult life, we are friends, or as close as anybody is allowed to get to being friends with him. In all honesty, I don't need another Colonel, and he is too old to be given another battalion," he admitted.

"But our medical scans show he's barely 30!" the Captain exclaimed.

"I know what his body is, I've seen him and I've never seen him so disgustingly healthy," the General pointed out, "His birth certificate however shows him as being over fifty, the rules say he retires at fifty-five. He is finished as far as this army is concerned. Even if he wasn't, I have an order on my desk that would probably finish him anyhow and I'll have to tell him tomorrow, if he doesn't find out before. He'll be dead within a month," he continued sadly.

The Voyager party looked at him in stunned shock.

"You seem to be very certain?" fired the Captain.

"Colonel Samuels Sir!" reported Corporal Armitage from the doorway.

"Wheel him in man!" The General snapped, swapping to a neutral look as the Colonel marched in.

"Samuels, you're getting old man! It only took four to get you back!" He crowed in seeming delight.

"I lost track of time, Sir!" The Colonel responded flatly.

"Rubbish man, you were trying to hide!" He jested, the Colonel blushing proving his deductions were correct.

He turned to the Captain. "I have taken the liberty of booking a table and rooms at our local hotel, 'The Inn on the Lake', it will be less noticeable than appearing and disappearing all the time! It's run by a couple of our people, extremely good and private," he confided, "We can continue our discussion over dinner?"

"Your offer is tempting," the Captain stammered, wondering why the General had changed his attitude so quickly, "I'll have to contact the ship first!"

"Armitage, show Captain Janeway to the private office and make sure she's not disturbed whilst talking to her vessel," the General ordered.

"Sir! This way Ma'am," Corporal Armitage announced dutifully. Chakotay went with her.

"These people are amazing!" Captain Janeway confided to her executive officer, in the seclusion of the empty office, "The way that General Fletcher makes a suggestion and we carry it out like an order! And he's just accepted our presence and who we are. I wonder how many others are like him?"

"It is obvious where the Colonels' attitude comes from," Agreed Chakotay

"But he is aiming to get us to agree to something, We should be careful," he pointed out.

"I agree, but I think it may be something that I would not be too distressed about," she speculated.

"Away Team to Voyager, report!" She announced on her communicator.

"Tuvok here, Captain!" Came the instant reply.

"It is quiet and we are keeping the ship masked as well as possible, but there are too many satellites to allow us to remain hidden for long. Lieutenant Torres has carried out extensive tests on the parts we required, we still cannot replicate them directly," he continued.

"Beam the parts down, the Colonel's commander is proving very cooperative," the Captain responded, "We've been given an invitation to dinner and to stay overnight, it will allow you to find a better hiding place."

"Are you certain that remaining is safe, Captain? It could be dangerous," Tuvok cautioned.

"Nobody is giving us a second glance. General Fletcher is of the opinion that we are less likely to be noticed if we remain," the Captain opined. "I'll call tomorrow."

"Affirmative, Captain," the link was broken.

They returned to the General's office, to find Seven of Nine standing protectively beside the embarrassed Colonel. The General had obviously been asking questions.

"I agree to your invitation General," the Captain announced with a smile.

"Excellent!" he enthused.

He turned to the Colonel, "Samuels, take my car, my wallet and the delectable Miss Nine, to 'Brains' in town. The band is playing there, so you can have dinner, look into each others eyes lovingly and be entertained," he commanded cheerfully of the now thoroughly discomforted Colonel.

"Sir!" The Colonel replied as distinctly as he was able. He saluted, then offered his arm to Seven of Nine as they left the office.

"Most remarkable young woman that," the General commented to them wistfully, "She's got her talons into him and no mistake. Tell me Captain, has your doctor examined her recently?"

"What for?" The Captain asked guardedly.

"Wings, halo's, the ability to walk without touching the floor, the usual accoutrements for an angel." he replied with a grim smile.

"If he had been anybody else, I could see the obvious reasons for his attraction, she is remarkably beautiful! But with him, I would have expected him to run a mile in sheer terror," he commented, "You know about his wife?"

"Yes we do, and he tried to run a lot further than that." The Captain replied just as guardedly as before.

The General nodded, he seemed unsurprised. "She chased him for nearly ten years, before she got him to accept her! It took twenty men to actually get him to the church."

"He had cold feet?" The Captain suggested amused.

"The ground froze wherever he touched it," the General admitted, smiling ruefully in memory.

"Then those murdering bastards targeted her, because they couldn't get him. We nearly lost him and he's never looked at a woman since."

"What's your Miss Nine got over him?" He asked sharply.

"She loves him," the Captain replied simply.

"Not enough! There have been more than a few who have loved him, including my wife."

"She has saved his life on several occasions," Chakotay pointed out.

"That would hurt him more than the wounds," replied the General knowingly.

"She wants his help and protection?" Suggested the Captain hopefully.

"That would help," The General agreed.

"He thinks she is lonelier than he is?" Suggested Chakotay with a sudden burst of inspiration.

"Perfect!" Cried the General with feeling, "The stupid bugger always thinks people are worse off than he his!"

"Now dinner!" He announced and turned to the Major, "We'll have to use your car my dear, Samuels has run off with mine!"

"General Fletcher is trying to hide something from me?" The Colonel commented to his nervous passenger, glancing at her.

Like the rest of the Captains' away team she was dressed in a close facsimile of an United States Naval uniform for the away mission. He was glad of that, her normal skin tight clothing would have been too provocative for the function they had been sent to. That only left the details of her implants to explain away. If they were noticed.

"Care to tell me what he is hiding?" He asked.

"He will inform you tomorrow," she announced defensively, "You should slow down and watch the road and other vehicles, a collision is imminent."

The Colonel laughed, "For somebody who spends her life charging around the cosmos at speeds that defy the imagination, you make an awful passenger at low speeds!" He grinned.

"Star Ships do not pass within a metre of each other," she pointed out uncomfortably.

"But people do!" The Colonel noted sadly.

"Tell me about 'Brains'?" She asked, sensing the cloud that had passed over her companion. Another human facility she had seemingly picked up from the man beside her she suddenly realised, the ability to pick up the moods of others and adapt her attitude to accommodate them.

"Mark Brain was one of ours, when he finished his tour with us, he like several others in the area set up in business for themselves. In his case he opened a sort of bar cum bistro cum night club. He runs a whole raft of functions there. As the regimental band is there, I assume it is one of his charity nights," the Colonel explained.

"We'll be there in about twenty minutes. I hope your batteries are fully charged. It could be a wild night!" He added.

The Captain sat back from a meal she confidently predicted would be the best she had ever tasted.

"That was superb," she complimented the General and his wife, who it had proved was the Major Fletcher that had met her in the hanger.

"Saunders, always had a way with food. Poisoned a whole liner once. So Samuels made him the regimental chef," General commented cheerfully, "We always believe in finding a mans best features."

The General caught her eye as she blanched and smiled, "May I get you a drink Captain?"

The Captain smiled, "Please, call me Kathryn. But I don't know what drinks are available in this period," she confessed.

"In that case, please call me Horace," he announced, then eyed her up carefully, "I think a white cider would be easiest," he diagnosed, "Commander?"

"I will match Kathryn," Chakotay answered calmly.

He left them to obtain the specified drinks.

"You think Horace was exaggerating with regards to the efforts Anneka went through to catch Alan? And his surprise that Seven of Nine should be able to get as close as she has?" Major Anne Fletcher asked quietly.

The Captain nodded, "It seems a little extreme," she pointed out uncertainly.

"You don't know half of it. She learnt to speak over thirty languages, then made sure wherever he was sent, there was always a certain blonde Swedish interpreter attached to whoever we were supposed to work with and waiting for us when we arrived. She was blissfully happy when they married, so was Alan when he got used to the idea. Take it from someone who tried to catch him, Seven of Nine has done something that ranks as a miracle," she explained quietly.

Horace Fletcher returned with their drinks on a tray and handed them out.

"You claimed that Colonel Samuels will be dead in a month, Why?" Asked Chakotay quietly.

Horace Fletcher nodded, "He will be."

"There are only two things on this planet that he cares for," he started, "His regiment and its men. The orders that I have will transfer it to a new Anglo-American rapid reaction force. It will effectively disband the 60th. It was the best I could achieve when they wanted to scrap it all together, but it wouldn't be enough, he's not overly fond of American troops."

"I can see it would hurt him, but kill him is a little extreme?" Chakotay probed.

"Perhaps I ought to tell you a little about Alan Samuels?" Horace Fletcher suggested, "It's touching but hardly pleasant," he warned.

"Please!" The Captain urged, sensing revelations ahead.

"First of all remember he is a pirate of the most romantic swashbuckling kind imaginable, absolute honour, honesty, courtesy, generosity and loyalty. He is also poorer than the fabled church mouse," he started.

"I first met him, rummaging through my parents dustbins, like an animal, after one of his inevitable escapes from the home. He was fifteen, almost unconscious from loss of blood because somebody had blown a hole in him the size of your fist. My father lugged him down to the hospital, not waiting for an ambulance. It turned out that he had been caught up in an armed bank raid that failed. One of the raiders fired both barrels from his shotgun at a police officer, Samuels dived in front of him and took most of the blast in his side. To everybody's surprise he got up and flattened the crook, he was a big lad even then. Before the police could get themselves sorted, he disappeared. Obviously the police set up a massive man hunt, looking for his body. But he turned up in my parents backyard two days later, more than a hundred miles from the scene. When he woke up in hospital, he escaped again, before the social workers could arrive to take him back to the Home."

"I don't know what they did to him in that Home, but the people who ran it are now serving multiple life sentences in prison for child abuse. If I try hard enough I can imagine and he must have been terrified."

"Anyhow he turned up again a couple of days later, another 100 miles away. This time rescuing a young nurse from a gang rape, stopping a knife in his stomach in the process. The nurse had to hold on to him with all her strength to stop him escaping, then she spent the next three weeks spending all day and night holding his hand and nursing him back to health. The first woman I know of to fall in love with him! The papers got hold of the story and started to quote stupid phrases like 'Super Hero', until Alan flattened a reporter for the comment and my father threatened to sue them."

"My father was also a General, but in the Green Jackets, another rifle regiment, but different to the 60th. He was upset that anybody should be that ready to die, so he provided a twenty-four-hour guard to stop him escaping again, they were needed too, Alan tried three times."

"He managed to form a friendship of sorts with Alan, no mean feat. He found that under the dirt and tough exterior there was an amazing human being, with a sense of right and wrong that he held on to with everything he had, all apparently gained from a bible that he stole from a visiting priest and a few books of fictional heroes. My father was impressed and got together with the Chief Constable and they contrived to put Alan in the Army and well away from Social Workers and foundling homes."

"His life has followed a similar pattern throughout his life, nearly forty years now. When he was promoted, he had people to command, so he protected them as he protected the police officer and nurse, with everything he had, terrified he would fail them. I've seen him march into hails of bullets to pick up a wounded man, dive into a burning building to rescue a child, you name a horror to face, I've seen him do it and come out more dead than alive! It's no wonder the Sergeant Major thinks he's indestructible!"

"Yet he is still scared that people may get too close to him, he thinks he will fail sooner or later, and they will suffer for it! Losing his wife like he did proved it to him. It nearly pushed him over the edge."

"My father left him quite a substantial amount of money in his will. He used it to buy the home he was in and set it up as a charity home and school for orphans. He gave it to a council made up of as many churches as would talk to him, there's even a couple of Royal's on the board and they all take a personal interest in how it's run. It is superbly equipped and the staff in charge are superbly dedicated, they have a brilliant record and reputation. When the kids leave, they all undertake to put a day's pay per month into it when they find work and they do find honest work. Most of the regiment also donate. The Colonel himself puts everything he earns into it."

"The only things he actually owns, is the sword he broke and that was a gift, the bible he stole, a flute that I suspect he also stole, and his wedding ring. There has been nothing else in his life until now," he finished quietly.

"Does that answer your question Commander?" He asked finally.

The two Star Fleet officers looked at him and each other for several minutes, and mouths open in amazement.

The Captain finally managed, "But it doesn't explain why the Colonel is the way he is, does it?"

"It's escapism," put in Anne Fletcher quietly, "He knows what Hell is, he's lived there all his life. So he's prepared to believe the books he's read of a Heaven and how to get there!"

"But he is so friendly and kind to others.." Protested the Captain, then stopped in realisation. "The only thing he cares about is other people," she marvelled, "And Seven?"

"He loves her. He will probably see her love for him as a mistake on his part. But his dedication to her happiness and safety will be total," The General agreed.

"You want us to take him with us when we leave, don't you?" Captain Janeway asked cautiously, after a few minutes silence.

The General nodded, "He doesn't have a place here anymore, it's arguable that he ever had. But he has the chance of actually being happy, I'd like to see him take it, if the price is right?"

"The price being the parts?" asked Chakotay carefully.

"No, they are yours when we find them. That was Alan's request and it gets you away from here, personally I don't think Earth is ready to meet people from out of space. This is a personal favour, but I would prefer it if he went as what he is, a proud soldier and ally, not a broken refugee, else he may as well die here!"

The Captain swallowed, "I will have to discuss it with my senior officers," she confided.

"I asked Miss Nine for your probable response," the General commented, "She thinks you want to offer to take him and will agree. If not she wishes to claim asylum. That would be remarkably difficult to clear up! And I will have to tell him the fate of his regiment tomorrow morning."

She cursed Seven of Nine's honesty and her determination to stay with the man that protected and cared for her.

"He can't be a soldier when we return to the Federation," she pointed out desperately.

"But that could be years yet!" Protested the General, "A lot can happen in a year, he could die, you could all die, Miss Nine may continue her miracles and get him to accept there is more to life than duty. A year ago, if I'd been there to see it, I'd have put the odds of Samuels falling in love with a woman as beautiful as Miss Nine, loneliness or not, as strictly zero. This way he has a chance to finally become happy and I owe him that!"

He lent forward, "Please Kathryn!" He pleaded desperately.

She looked at Chakotay for help. He nodded to her, smiling grimly.

She looked back at him. "Very well we'll take him, but with two conditions."

"They are?"

"You get him to use my Christian name when we're off duty and stop him apologising for rescuing my ship and crew from certain destruction," she declared with a waspish smile.

"He has a habit of being over formal," he admitted, sitting back again. "He hasn't used my Christian name in all the time I've known him, then I've never seen him out of uniform either, but I will try," Horace promised, smiling at the strange requests.

"I will send a driver for you tomorrow at 09:00. Order what you will from the bar, it's against the bill," the General informed them, getting up and bowing.

The Fletchers left them nursing their drinks.

"Do you believe the story he told us about the Colonel?" Chakotay asked.

"That he's a one man army of retribution, totally dedicated to the protection and comfort of the weak, indestructible in confrontation, incapable of accepting recognition and terrified of being loved," summed up the Captain, "It would match what we have seen."

"Seven is right. He doesn't belong here either!" noted Chakotay.

Taking his Captains hand, he squeezed it gently, comforting her. Automatically she placed her head against his shoulder.

"They will make a wonderful couple, won't they?" She asked nervously, seeking Chakotay's approval and assurance.

"They compliment each other. They are a good team. You should know, you put them together!" Chakotay assured her gently.

"Everybody has been giving me advice, it is all the same advice, and they are all telling me I'm wrong!" The Colonel commented to Seven of Nine, as they sat at their table, listening and watching the band.

"Do you wish to put your tuppence in as well?" He asked her pointedly.

"There is nothing to be gained," she sighed, deliberately catching his eye's, "You do not take advice you believe is wrong."

"The problem is the advice I've been given is right. I don't belong here anymore than I belong on Voyager in the 26th Century! Some bastard had a sick joke at my expense, sending me spinning away into the future and is still laughing at the caveman as he tries to work out why he doesn't belong where he came from anymore!" he said in exasperation.

"You know, the General is only two years older than I am, he'll retire next year! The Sergeant Major is only a year younger than me. Put us together and they look their age and I'm their grandson! But it won't stop them retiring me for being too old!"

Seven of Nine said nothing, she had learnt that silence was best in these situations, but moved her hand to cover his, holding it firmly.

"Not that I ever expected to reach any sort of age. I've given Death plenty of opportunities, but he doesn't want me either!" He complained bitterly.

"The trouble is that whatever I decide to do it will break something," he sighed reflectively.

"Miss Nine. Why do you want to be so loyal to a broken old crock like me?" He asked her suddenly.

Stunned she withdrew her hand.

"That is a question you have asked, and I was unable to answer!" She protested.

"Shall I tell you how I fell so foolishly and heavily in love with you?" He asked quietly.

She nodded uncertainly. Unsure she was going to like what she heard.

"It's largely the Captain's fault," he started, "When I joined the ship, she told me I was the first person you'd ever shown an independent interest in and offered me a place on the ship, if I would take care of you. I accepted simply because I have never let anybody suffer if there was a chance of helping them, especially a young woman. I thought you were very lonely and needed company, any company, even mine! You are a beautiful woman and everything about you, to my mind at least, are perfectly proportioned, from your physical beauty to your off hand and remote nature, you should never be alone!"

"When you started to talk to me about your life, I found it distressing, there were too many similarities to my life and I would not wish them on my worst enemy. So I became protective of you, but there was something else there, a desire to make you happy. I tried to convince myself it was the protective nature of an ambivalent Uncle and hide it."

"I tried so hard to hide it and dismiss it," He sighed, "But the desires got worse. After that first dinner dance on the ship and I found out about how little you had on the ship, I was overcome, everything hit me at once, your loneliness, the emptiness, my hormones, sadness, I couldn't resist them all. I really didn't expect you to accept my love though and certainly didn't expect you to continue to accept it or return it. The first time you climbed into my bed. I almost died of fright. That is why I have resisted your advances to make love all the way through, I didn't expect it to last, for me it would be the ultimate despicable act," he finished, the last phrases dying away in despair.

"Now are you sure you still want this desperate old fool? Enough to give up everything to be a pauper on a world you know nothing about?" He asked desperately, tears starting to show in his eyes.

She reached forward again and caught both of his hands, clasping them together and pulling them towards her.

"Yes!" she hissed firmly.

Quickly she catalogued her reasons, "The crew were afraid of me, of what I was, because I was unable to understand their feelings. You were not. When you held me I felt different, nobody on the ship had touched me before. You did not condemn me for being Borg, but helped me overcome the feelings of shame I felt and replaced them with new more acceptable ones, it allowed me to discover and accept the feelings of others. You have never claimed I should feel or do something just because it is human nature. You gave me your time and attention and allowed me to find my own true feelings. You made me feel important. You care for me, there can be nothing else, I wish to belong to you, I will remain with you!" She kissed his hands.

The Colonel suddenly laughed, "What a sad pair we make! Lovers in desperation, each lonelier than the other!"

The band suddenly struck up with a slow waltz.

"I know the words to this one," the Colonel announced, recognising the tune, "They're very apt!"

"Miss Nine, may I have the pleasure of this dance with you?" He asked, suddenly cheerful again.

"That will be acceptable," she agreed taking his hand and standing up.

"You're in danger of smiling again," he warned her quietly.

"What are the words?" She asked ignoring his warning as they coupled on the dance floor, amidst half dozen others.

"You want them sung amongst all these people?" He asked in surprise.

She nodded tentatively.

He sang in his customary smooth tenor:-

"If I lost you,

What would I tell my heart,

You help me build my castles,

Don't ever make them fall,

I'd lose my all,

If I lost YOU!"

If I lost You,

The spring could come and go,

The Rose could bloom,

And yet I'd never know,

My life would fall,

If I lost YOU!"

He sang as they waltzed gently around the floor. Around them people stopped to watch the couple, him tall and straight, singing his heart out, her just as straight but resting her head against his chest eyes closed, both oblivious to the onlookers, both obviously in love.

As the music finished, they kissed tenderly and the onlookers applauded the couple loudly, to their mutual embarrassment. The Colonel turned to the band and bowed deeply.

"Thank you, Major Williams, for your indulgence," he called.

"There's only one Colonel in the army that sings like that, and you're welcome Sir!" the Major replied cheerfully, "Would you like to sing some more? Or join us with your flute? Perhaps your lady can sing?" He asked hopefully.

"Perhaps we will oblige, but I need a drink first," the Colonel answered.

"How about it Miss Nine, should we run in embarrassment or show them what Borg efficiency can do?" He teased.

"Neither," she replied, "You will sing, I find it pleasant."

"Only if you're with me," he persisted quietly.

"I will comply," she agreed eventually.

"Did you two have a good time last night?" The Captain asked Seven of Nine after breakfast, her smile suggesting that she already knew the answer.

"It was acceptable," Seven agreed, unusually happily the Captain thought.

"What did you get up to?" She quizzed.

"We had dinner, talked, then danced and the Colonel sang. We were popular," she confided, remembering the applause that had followed her own singing.

"And after that?"

"We walked by the river, then went to bed."

"The same bed?"

"That was unnecessary, we comforted each other all evening. He needs time to think before he comes to the right decision," She announced.

"I found out why he loves me!" Seven volunteered.

"Oh!" The Captain exclaimed with a worried frown.

"It will not damage our relationship. Thank you Captain."

The Captain looked at her in surprise.

"The Colonel says you put us together," she explained calmly.

"If what I heard is to be believed, you are one of many who have loved him," the Captain said, anxious to get some caution in, "But the first that he has really loved for himself."

"He loved his wife!" Seven protested.

"But he was manoeuvred into it by the General and his regiment, it took them ten years. Everybody was happy about it, but I would never do that to you! If you decide to go the whole way, you do it for yourselves!" The Captain exclaimed righteously.

"There is a vehicle from the Colonel's regiment outside," Seven commented, "Our transport?" She asked quizzically.

"Yes. Go and get Chakotay, I'll get your Colonel."

She found him in the hotel lounge reading a newspaper.

"Seven seems remarkably happy," she commented, "Is there a reason for that?"

"She enjoys singing for people, she was very popular and had four offers of marriage?" The Colonel suggested mildly.

"Were you one of them?" The Captain asked quickly.

"After two years away, you would have thought that the news would be different," he commented, quickly changing the subject, "But it isn't, the same political parties keep dancing around the same irrelevant subjects, desperately avoiding a decision. The same crimes are being committed, the same wars are happening. It will be difficult to live it all again. It seems so pointless. The only thing I would miss if I didn't have too, is a decent pint of beer!"

"You've made a decision?" The Captain queried.

"I think so Ma'am."

"Care to tell me what it is?" She asked anxiously.

"Not until I've seen General Fletcher, Ma'am. It will depend upon his agreement." The reply was smooth and decisive.

General Fletcher met them in an ebullient mood. "The lads have had some successes on our quest," he announced to the party.

"The Fairies in the radio room have repaired your circuit board. We've found a supply of those tubes you need. I'll send somebody to acquire them tonight. And my professor friends think they know who your inventor is, but they aren't sure where he lives. I've given that problem to the Provost and MOD Plods to sort out. All in all a good start!" He claimed impressively.

"What would you like to do today?" He asked, "Perhaps, Major Fletcher can show you around our patch of the world?" He suggested urgently.

"We need to return to the ship," Captain Janeway started, then caught the implication behind the Generals urgency. "I would love to see your facilities, perhaps, I ought to bring our Security Officer to look?"

"As you wish Madam," the General replied formally.

"Major, take our friends to stores and kit them properly, then show them our playground," he commanded.

"Sir!" His wife responded automatically.

As they were led out the Sergeant Major stepped into the office, and handed the General a sheaf of papers, he glanced at it and put it aside.

"I have here an order regarding the Regiment, Colonel," the General began, picking up another piece of paper, that had lain face down on his desk.

"It effectively says that we are to disband and reform as a joint force with an American battalion."

"No!" Gasped the Colonel in shock.

"All Officers and Men will report to Joint NATO Chiefs of Staff," The General continued, heedless of the Colonel's state, "The role will be that of rapid reaction and insurgency strike force. Broadly what we do now, but with American overkill. We will lose our colours and patronage. The new regiment will be led by an American General, General Portelski. You know him I think? You hit him once as I recall?"

"That was when he was a Captain, Sir," the Colonel agreed, collapsing into a chair, "He marched his men into a trap so obvious that a blind man could see it, then wondered why they all died! How can anybody dissolve my Regiment, or give it to an idiot like him?"

"Believe it or not there are a lot of people that don't like you," said the General quietly, "Especially in Whitehall and other places you shouldn't upset. It so happens that you have a couple of influential friends as well, in the shape of the President of the United States. These orders have been amended. We were simply to be disbanded. It's the best I could do for everybody."

"Permission to speak, Sir?" The Colonel requested.

The General nodded, unsurprised.

"I cannot serve in the new regiment, Sir. I wish to surrender my Commission, Sir!" He stated clearly.

The General nodded again, just as unsurprised.

"There are problems with your request," He pointed out, "I assume you are thinking of asking Captain Janeway for passage. So you are assuming that she will take you. That she will hang around for the months it would take the paperwork to clear. You can't afford to buy yourself out. I'm not going to get you Sectioned for it. If you stayed, you couldn't support yourself, let alone support the young lady. No Colonel, your request is denied."

He watched the Colonel shrink in front of him, as his disappointment hit him. He'd expected that as well.

"I can't see you as a civilian," he said, trying to offer some comfort, "You'd get yourself killed at the first opportunity. So I have alternative orders for you, Colonel."

"Sir?" The Colonel replied without looking up from his misery.

"You will formally detach yourself from the Regiment and operate in conjunction with and under the control of United Federation Star Fleet forces. Your Rules of Engagement to include diplomatic attache to that organisation. To maintain friendly relations between that organisation and Her Majesties Government. Conduct such actions as are required to achieve the continued safety of those forces using such facilities as are available to you. These orders are not to be regarded as exclusive of any other actions that may be required, including acceptance of status not exceeding current rank. Your orders." He handed the Colonel the paper.

The Colonel took it, examining it carefully, before folding it and putting it in his pocket.

"Thank you Sir!" He announced gratefully, "But the signature is wrong!"

"Don't look a gift horse in the mouth, I'll be dead before anybody works them out!" General Fletcher snapped, "I'll leave you to work out what to do about Miss Nine and you. I just hope you do it soon and she doesn't have as many problems as Anneka did, getting you to accept it. And send your children back to visit me, when they are old enough! I'd like to see what sort of hash you make of bringing up your own children instead of everybody else's," he added with a broad smile.

Captain Janeway shrugged on the flak jacket that she had been given, like the rest of the clothing issued to her, it seemed bulky and cumbersome compared to the light weight Star Fleet uniform. Designed to protect its wearer in harsh conditions, she wondered how hard the conditions could be in this obviously peaceful English countryside. She voiced her concerns to the implacable Major.

"They're not too bad at the moment. We're only going to walk around, but it might get a little muddy. We don't want you to go home too dirty, hence the battle dress," she commented.

"If you would all care to follow me, we'll start at the parade ground." She announced.

They followed the Major at a quick jog.

"I don't know how much you know about the British Army?" She asked, "But line regiments are traditionally drawn from a locality, with people volunteering for more specialist regiments after proving themselves. Every British Regiment has its own customs that make it unique. It's changed a little as the army has contracted, but is still relevant. The first thing they are taught is how to drill in the regimental style and to accept the colours as their own. The honour of the Regiment is everything. It requires loyalty to it and their comrades. When they learn to march in step with each other, they can learn why it is so important."

They stood and gazed in awe as a Guards company slammed past them at a crisp rate.

"It is something the Guards do better than anybody else, looking pretty," Major Fletcher confessed ambivalently.

"Of course it's not just strutting around," She pointed to a party of troops toiling in at a near run, bearing full packs. "We make them fit as well with exercises, with and without packs."

They followed her again as she led them through an obstacle course, into a lightly wooded area. She stopped suddenly in a glade, glancing around quickly, she motioned them to be still and quiet. Suddenly there was a blood curdling scream from in front of them. Thirty men appeared, as if by magic, from a muddy stream not more than 20 Metres in front and screaming in rage. They charged towards them, bearing their weapons low and purposefully, glinting at the front of their short weapons were bayonets. Nervously the Star Fleet party stepped back in horror from the spectacle.

The group charged past them and they turned to watch as they reached rows of stuffed sacks. The screams seemed to reach a new intensity as the soldiers charged into them, thrusting the bayonets in and out of the sacks. A new voice reached them, 'Smith put some bloody effort into it, it's the enemy, rip his bloody guts out! Anderson! Just 'cause you've snapped your bloody bayonet doesn't mean you can stop. There is still a jagged bit. Use it!' It screamed.

"Sorry Ma'am, I didn't know we had observers today!" They turned to find another tall soldier facing the Major, standing at attention.

"Entirely my fault, Sergeant, we'll get out of your way. Carry on!" She commanded.

"Ma'am!" He slammed a salute and disappeared into the trees.

The Major turned to them again, "I'm most dreadfully sorry, I had forgotten there was a full bayonet drill in the glade today," she apologised in concern for her guests, "If you've never witnessed a bayonet charge before it is terrifying. Very few armies use them anymore, so if you get it right you will never actually kill anybody because they've all run away."

"It was terrifying!" Chakotay freely admitted, "We've seen the Colonel perform in a similar fashion and we know it is very effective."

She smiled at them, "Colonel Samuels is a master with a blade and he learnt how to do it here and like this."

"We had better return to camp, the exercise will become somewhat more scary from here," she claimed, leading them back to the road to be met by the Colonel. Both army officers slammed to attention and saluted as they met.

The Colonel turned towards the Captain, presenting her with a sheaf of paper. "My orders, Ma'am," he announced stiffly, "Should you wish to accept and sign them, then I have been placed at your disposal."

Captain Janeway took them from him and read them carefully. Finally she looked up. "Is it what you really want?" She asked mildly.

"I'm a soldier, Ma'am," he replied stiffly, "I go where I am ordered, there is no choice."

"But if I accept you under this, you will effectively lose everything you have here, rank, friends everything, you will undoubtedly be placed in danger again and there will be no comebacks," she pointed out, "I'll not accept them unless you want to come with us?"

"I seem destined to lose what I had anyhow, Ma'am. I carry what I own so I've nothing to lose here, perhaps there will be something for me somewhere, sometime else. As for danger, I've faced it too often to be really worried by it or its associates."

She nodded slowly, "Okay, I accept your orders as defined," she agreed formally, "Do you have a pen?"

He presented her with one from his pocket, then his shako for use as a writing desk.

"I never realised hats were so useful," she remarked as she signed her name at the foot of the papers.

"I don't know what Star Fleet will say about all this though," she commented as she handed the paperwork to Major Fletcher, who split the multi part form and handed copies back to the Captain and Colonel.

"The problem may never occur, I could be dead in a week," he informed her cheerfully.

A Land Rover drew up beside them and Sergeant-Major O'Neil got out, and addressed the Colonel, "General's compliments, Sir. We've found your inventor!" he claimed cheerfully saluting the party.

"Excellent news, Sergeant Major," the Colonel thanked him, "Where is he?"

"In the New Forest Sir! General's given orders to take your guests to the Officers Mess for lunch, then take you there, Sir!"

"I assume he sent you with the transport as well?" Captain Janeway asked quietly, praying she would not be force marched to the new venue.

The Sergeant Major looked at the vehicle in disgust, "Yes Ma'am. He thought you may have had enough exercise for one day, Ma'am."

"Carry on, Sergeant Major," the Colonel responded, catching the Captains relieved look as they piled into the vehicle.

"How many are going?" Asked Captain Janeway in shock at the seeming cavalcade that appeared at the Mess door after lunch.

"Eight men, Ma'am, four Land Rovers and a five tonner," answered the Sergeant Major, saluting smartly again, "I was under the impression that there may be equipment to be brought back, Ma'am."

She nodded perplexed, "It seems like a lot of fuss, we could have just beamed everything aboard the ship," she commented to the Colonel.

"I think the General is worried that the ship will be spotted, Ma'am. He could be right, I know you are jamming radar and radio signals, but you can't do much against the Mark 1 eyeball and there are a lot of those looking upwards."

The Sergeant Major conducted the Star Fleet away party to different vehicles and managed to arrange to be the Colonel's driver.

"Permission to speak, Sir?" He asked as they set off.

"Carry on, Sergeant Major," the Colonel agreed.

"Are you leaving the Regiment, Sir?"

"Nobody really leaves the Regiment, remember?" He replied carefully.

"But you are going to go with these Star Fleet people?"

"I have orders and it's probably for the best, don't you think?" He answered mildly.

"Who's going to keep you alive, Sir, without me and the lads to protect you?"

The Colonel looked at him in surprise. "They seem to have done a good job so far," he commented, "Not up to your standards perhaps, but there is less call for fisticuffs."

"If you're thinking of asking Captain Janeway for passage, don't. She will refuse, I'm not sure why she's accepted me," he continued, "You're a good man Pat, and I thank you for everything you've done to make the Regiment the best there is. But you have a good wife and lovely kids to look after and in two years time you will be able to retire to that pub you always wanted. Your life is about to start again, just like mine is."

"Sir!" The Sergeant Major responded quietly.

He was silent for a while, then asked, "Are you intending to marry Miss Nine, Sir?"

Colonel Samuels looked at him sharply, "No! I'm hoping she will come to her senses, why?"

The old Sergeant-Major nodded wisely. "God bless you Sir! You understand men so well, but women! She won't, she's more determined than Anneka and you're too intent on looking after her for her to change her mind, Sir!"

The Colonel thought for a few minutes, "Tell me Sergeant-Major, if your daughter, Mary, brought a soldier home and told you she wanted to marry him, would you let her?"

It was the Sergeant-Major's turn to think, finally he replied slowly, "I would give her and him a damned good talking too, Sir, make sure they haven't made a mistake, like you used to. But if she insisted then I would give them my blessing."

"Miss Nine hasn't got anybody to give her that talking too," the Colonel pointed out wryly, "And she can't be split off from people for long to cool off either."

The convoy drew to a halt in a roadside layby. "The house is about half a mile down the road, Sir," Sergeant-Major O'Neil informed the Colonel, "The gentleman you're after is Doctor Harrington!"

"Thank you, Sergeant Major. Take three men and work your way around the back of the house, make sure it's secure, the rest to stay here until called. I'll take the Captain to the front door and see if he'll cooperate," he instructed.

"I'm sorry Ma'am," he announced, turning to the Captain, "But it seems wiser to walk up to our target and see if he'll talk, rather than storm the keep."

She smiled at him, "We'll make you a diplomat yet," she suggested cheerfully.

"No, Ma'am. I fully intend to let you do the clever talking," he responded calmly, "I'm just going to make sure he lets us in and doesn't try to runaway."

She sighed, "Come on then, let's see what we can do."

She led the party along the road. The house they were looking for proved to be a two-story cottage, it and the garden had obviously seen better days. The garden was a mess of brambles, somebody had obviously tried at some point and had hacked a clear area alongside the footpath to the door, this had been taken over by ground laurel. The hedge around the garden was tall and unkempt. The cottage itself had a thatched roof, part of the thatch had failed and a hole could clearly be seen from the road. The white washed walls were covered in creeping ivy. A rickety corrugated garage stood apart from the house. The Colonel inspected it carefully, peering through the dirty window, he spotted a car inside.

"This ruin could actually be quite picturesque," he commented, as he forced the gate open for the Captain, "Still, I suppose it meets the requirements of a lunatic eccentric?"

They rapped on the door using the large iron ring knocker, it echoed hollowly, but there was no other sound. They tried again and waited.

"I'll take Seven around the back," volunteered Chakotay, "He may be there and not hear us!"

The Captain nodded an agreement, as the Colonel tried the latch. The door opened with a creak as Chakotay and Seven disappeared.

"Yes?"

They were met by a thin man wearing half moon spectacles. His age was difficult to determine, he could have been a very old forty or perhaps a young seventy, it was obvious from the gaunt figure he neither ate properly nor left the house. He took very little care of his personal presentation as well. The old and thread bare trousers and check shirt appearing to have been supplied by a jumble sale.

"Doctor Harrington?" The Colonel asked quietly, saluting.

"Who wants to know?" The voice was a nervous high-pitched whine.

"My name is Lieutenant-Colonel Alan Samuels, Sir. Attached to NASA. This is Captain Kathryn Janeway," he indicated the Captain.

"NASA believes that you are carrying out experiments that may be of great benefit to our own research, Sir. We would like to discuss them, if we may, Sir? There may be a mutual benefit," He continued smoothly, gently forcing the man back in the house.

The man seemed to regain his composure somewhat, "How do you know?" He asked sharply.

"Not my field to be honest, Sir, I'm the guide," the Colonel confessed truthfully, "I have been informed that you gave a talk some time ago, where you provided some theories that disputed current scientific thinking. That apparently is what NASA wants today, new ideas, they are even prepared to believe that Einstein was wrong, or so I'm told," he bluffed, "Captain Janeway, can give you a better explanation than I can, she's majored in Astronomical Sciences."

He had pushed them gently but firmly towards what appeared to be the scullery kitchen at the back of the house.

"I don't know about Einstein," the doctor announced, "It's Newton that was an imbecile, I can prove it!" He claimed in a sudden fit of passion.

"He claimed that energy can't be created. Well I can prove him wrong!"

"Really?" Asked the Captain, in surprise and taking the cue, "How?"

"Have you heard of perpetual motion?" He asked in excitement, "I've created a device that once started will continue to work without any external influence and produces more energy than it requires to work! It would mean the end of the worlds energy problems and there is no pollution at all, so they can forget about coal and nuclear power. My experimental machine is small enough to be used in a vehicle, so it's the end of the petrol engine."

"Would you like to tell me how it works?" the Captain asked him gently. If she could get him going properly then perhaps he would volunteer information, she decided.

"It would be of great benefit in our space explorations."

"No!" He denied.

"Not without the recognition it deserves. I want to rub the noses of all those uptight, closed-minded cretins at the Royal Society in it. I am going to be the greatest scientist of all time!" He crowed.

"What would do it better than having a Harrington Device aboard a space exploration ship?" Suggested the Captain, trying to match his excitement.

"You mean it?" He asked in his growing excitement, "I'll show you the machine, it's in my laboratory, come with me!"

"Why not explain how it works?" Asked the Captain quickly, catching sight of Chakotay in the window and afraid the Doctor would charge out and find them in the act of breaking into his laboratory. Out the corner of her eye she saw the Colonel start to move to put himself between the door and the doctor.

"It's far too complex to explain adequately," he claimed glibly, "Simply you start with a couple of megawatts of power, then the machine multiplies it in a statically charged sphere. The surplus is conducted away to keep the process going. As it starts to generate its own power, then it produces more power exponentially. You have to see it."

He dived for a small door, rapidly followed by the Colonel who trying to stop him. She took a desperate look after them, then dived after the two men. She found herself at the top of a short flight of stairs, leading into a basement. The wooden stairs themselves were dimly lit, but she could see much brighter lighting at the bottom. Quickly she started down the stairs, to find the two men looking at a machine. It seemed similar to the one they had on Voyager, but was without its covers. She could hear the Colonel talking calmly and the doctors excited replies.

"Are you sure it's safe, Sir?"

"Absolutely!"

"Shouldn't you make sure with an off switch?"

"Why? It generates its own power. You can't turn it off like that!"

"Ah, Captain, this stupid soldier want's to know why it can't be simply turned off when not required!" Doctor Harrington claimed.

The Colonel bristled, "I'm sorry Sir, but in my experience scientists toys tend to suffer from glitches that are often more than a little dangerous."

"Nonsense, I'll show you. My plants fully charged, I was going to run it up for the first time this afternoon."

"You haven't tried it yet then?" The Captain asked slowly, looking around at the mess.

"No, but you can be my first witnesses!" He announced, pulling a lever on the wall.

Nothing seemed to happen, but as they stood they could hear a low hum start to build. It grew louder as power started to feed into the machine.

"How much power are you feeding it?" The Captain asked quietly, nervously edging to the stairs.

"The capacitor plant has been charging for a few weeks," Doctor Harrington replied, "I suspect there is perhaps a couple of Giga Watts in them."

The hum became a scream and the machine seemed to pulse then glow. She turned for the door, her own sixth sense warning of an imminent catastrophe. She was physically caught by the Colonel who threw them both behind a screen.

"Get under there!" He screamed at her, pointing at an old wooden bench, "It's going wrong!"

She could not hear him, so he lifted her again and threw her bodily underneath, quickly following her, then pressed her down. She covered her ears with her hands, to try as the sound grew through the pain barrier. Then shut her eyes as a bright flash signalled an explosion. Parts of the ceiling started to rain upon them, then blessed silence as she passed out.

Chakotay and Seven of Nine had successfully and safely negotiated the briar patch that had been a garden, and found them selves in the rear garden. A new concrete outhouse was the first thing they saw, it seemed out of place considering the poor condition of the house. They approached it carefully. A metal door was set in a wall, they tried the handle and found it unlocked, so they entered into what appeared to be an Aladdin's cave of parts, but no secret laboratory.

Chakotay whistled under his breath, "See what you can find," he ordered Seven, "I'll call the Colonel's people, they can carry them out for us. If our mad professor is uncooperative then we may have to steal what we need."

He left her moving along the shelves and picked his way to the hedge.

"Sergeant-Major O'Neil?" He called quietly.

"Sir!" The bramble bush behind him spoke.

He turned sharply in surprise, to find the Sergeant Major standing to attention.

"How do you do that?" He protested, "You weren't there a second ago!"

"Years of practise, Sir!" the old Sergeant-Major grinned, "How can we assist you, Sir?"

"We've found our parts, can you help us get them out the shed."

"Sir!" He waved his hand and the rest of his men appeared as if by magic. Chakotay realised that he had walked within a metre of them without seeing them.

He walked back to the shed, taking the opportunity to try and peer into the house, through the window. Briefly he caught a glimpse of people inside, but could make out no details.

He turned into the shed again to find that the four man team were already pulling parts off the shelves that Seven of Nine was indicating. When they completed the soldiers quickly divided the load between themselves and left.

"It would be wise to come with us, Sir!" Sergeant-Major O'Neil suggested, "That way you won't be discovered in the wrong place."

Chakotay nodded and beckoned to Seven of Nine to come with them, then followed the Sergeant Major to the back hedge. The Soldiers forced a path through, then held it open for the Commander to follow. Spotting Seven of Nine's nervousness at thrusting herself through a bramble bush, Sergeant Major O'Neil dropped his load, stepped back, grabbed her by the waist and lifted her head high to carry her through.

"I'm sorry Ma'am. But I can't leave you here alone, it would upset the Colonel, Ma'am," he claimed as he set the surprised ex-Borg gently down again.

"Your apology and explanation are unnecessary, thank you!" She stammered, this man was even stronger than the Colonel she realised.

"Why do you follow the Colonel so closely?" She asked in curiosity as they set off again towards the truck.

"Because he is a good man. He looks after us. All he expects of us is to meet his demands, but proves he expects more from himself," the Sergeant-Major explained, "Besides if we weren't there he'd get himself hurt, somebody has got to look after him! Please look after him properly when you go, Ma'am?" He pleaded

She stared at him in surprise, "He is dismissive of the value of his life, but I shall try to carry out your request," she promised finally.

Fretfully they waited by their transport, waiting for the call from the Colonel. The explosion took them by surprise.

"What's the daft bugger done now?" Exclaimed Sergeant-Major O'Neil in surprise. He ran down the road towards the cottage, signalling for his men to follow.

He reached the site where the cottage had stood at a run, there he stopped in shock, everything had collapsed.

"Cooper!" He screamed, "Find a phone box. Get onto the Fuzz, tell them there has been an explosion, we may need fire and ambulances. The rest of you start searching."

They spent thirty minutes searching, then a call came, "I've found them Sergeant Major! They're in this hole, the Colonel's alive and moving."

The Sergeant Major peered into the hole. At its shallowest point it appeared to be about ten feet deep and he could see the Colonel move slowly, trying to get up and move some timber off the body he was covering, he jumped in to help.

"When I lift, grab them and pull them out," he ordered.

Gently he moved the Colonel out the way and knelt by Captain Janeway and checked her for life. "Tell the Commander, his Captain is hurt but still alive, the Colonel protected her from the cave in." He called out to the waiting men. Then he started the gentle task of pulling the remains of the debris from her prostrate body.

Captain Janeway was shaken back to reality by gentle hands, some little while later. Still deafened by the noise and partially blinded by the flash, she could not make out what was being said or done. Dumbly she was lead to where the stairs had been. Her arms were moved so that they were pointing upwards, then she felt herself being lifted from just above the knees. Desperately she tried to keep her balance as she rose. Suddenly realising what was being attempted, she frantically waved her arms about trying to find something to hold, sure whoever it was that was lifting her knew that there was something to grasp. Something brushed her hand, she sought it again and finally grasped a hand. She felt the grip below a shift, then she was lifted again. Scrabbling frantically she was half lifted, and half pulled out of the remains of Doctor Harrington's laboratory, and was gently led away by somebody.

After an hour both her sight and hearing started to return, leaving her head ringing painfully. She looked around, shading her eyes from the feeble sunlight. A large part of the house had seemingly disappeared, the remains freed from the support of the rear wall had simply collapsed in on its self. She could see Chakotay and several of the Colonel's men sifting the wreckage.

"You are recovered, Captain?" Seven's voice sounded as though it was covered in a pillow.

She turned to see the tall blond bending anxiously over her. "What happened? Where's the Colonel?" She asked, her voice sounding garbled from the ringing she could still hear.

"It appears that the Professor overloaded his machine, he has gone," Seven replied calmly, "The Colonel is attempting to search the remains of the laboratory. He is damaged but functioning. Sergeant-Major O'Neil has given first aid and is assisting his search. His men are about to force him out for treatment. I have summoned the ship for assistance."

"Did you and Chakotay find anything to rebuild the machine?"

"We found some parts, they will be sufficient," Seven of Nine answered monosyllabically, watching the soldiers pulling the Colonel out.

Once out he picked himself up with the help of the men around him and staggered over to them. He managed to come to attention, then saluted them, though it was nowhere near as crisp as he usually managed. The Captain looked at him in concern, there appeared to be trickle of blood coming from an ear, his nose was bleeding, and a little blood was showing from the corner of his eye. He tried to speak, but it was unintelligible. Instead he handed her a loose leaf folder, then collapsed to the floor.

Chakotay ran over to them. "Sergeant-Major O'Neil has suggested that we get to the ship, then he can deal with the authorities. He's going to claim they witnessed an explosion, there is no sign of the Doctors' equipment, so they may get away with claiming a gas explosion," he advised quickly, "They'll look after the parts."

He activated his communicator. "Chakotay to Voyager!"

"Tuvok here, Commander," Came Tuvok's bland voice.

"Four to beam to the sickbay, immediate!"

They beamed away.

As the Doctor fussed over her and the Colonel, the Captain glanced at the file the Colonel had given her. It contained paperwork covered in long hand script, calculations for formula and some form of diary. She handed it to Chakotay who was standing next to her. "I think these are Professor Harrington's notes, they may be of use to B'Elanna in getting the machine working safely," she suggested.

"How's the Colonel?" She asked sharply, now her hearing was back to normal.

"He'll recover in a few minutes." The Doctor promised, "He burst a few blood vessels and an ear drum, nothing for him."

"I wish he would seek medical attention when he gets hurt," he complained, "And not go on gaily, until it's almost too late. It will kill him one day."

"That is the nature of the Colonel," the Captain pointed out, "According to his commander he's been like that since he was a child. I don't think even Seven can change that in him."

"He is determined," admitted Seven of Nine quietly, standing by the Colonel, "He takes each event as a challenge and refuses to accept failure. It would be inappropriate to attempt to change it."

Two days later the Captain and her party beamed themselves back to the hanger that had housed their original beam down point. This time they were supplemented by Lieutenant Torres, who wished to inspect their spares. Again they were met by C Company, who seemed to have been expecting them.

An officer approached them. The Colonel recognising him, stepped to the front and saluted, "Captain Wilshaw, We've come to collect our parts."

"General's compliments, Sir. You and your party are to report to his office before you leave," Captain Wilshaw announced.

"We have orders to stop you if you try to leave, Sir," he added quietly, he pointed at his men who were standing at the ready.

The Colonel nodded slowly, "You could probably get a couple of us too," he agreed amicably, "But I should say good bye to the old man, so lead on Captain."

C Company fell in around the Star Fleet party and they were quick marched to General Fletchers office. They were met in the outer office by the General himself.

"I was beginning to think you had done a bunk," he announced cheerfully, "Trying to get home the long way perhaps?"

"No Sir!" The Colonel disputed, "I received injuries in the explosion. I have only just escaped from the Quack, Sir."

"Never mind, you're Captain Janeway's problem now, she's signed for you."

"You'll be glad to know that you are still a secret to the world at large Captain. The police have put the explosion at Harrington's down to a simple gas explosion, they aren't looking for the part that disappeared, or him. Apparently the damned fool was always blowing himself up, so they've assumed he did the job properly this time. As for his lab' and parts store, we've quietly stripped them of anything recognisable. I don't suppose I can interest you in Twentieth Century junk?" General Fletcher asked hopefully.

"I doubt it," the Captain laughed, "I'd like to express our thanks for all your help and not telling your superiors about us."

"Not a problem," the General announced, "You've looked after one of my people and that means a lot to the Regiment and myself. Now who is this lovely young woman?" He stepped in front of B'Elanna Torres.

"Lieutenant B'Elanna Torres, Ships Engineer, Sir!" She announced nervously, drawing herself to a state of alert.

General Fletcher ignored it and took her hand and kissed it, "Charmed!" He claimed, to her obvious delight.

"Before I let you go, there is one thing I need your help with Captain," He announced casually. "Nothing serious, but you presence would be helpful."

"Oh?" The Captain queried.

"It seems that Colonel Samuels missed an appointment with the village padre. He's quite upset about it and is blaming me for it. I have a bus arriving in a couple of minutes. It will take us down to see him."

"Does it need all of us?" The Captain asked in confusion.

"A few witnesses won't hurt," he assured her. "I see the bus has arrived, this way please!"

"What's going on?" The Captain asked General Fletcher quietly, as she sat herself beside him and indicating the twenty soldiers already on the bus.

"It seems that Samuels and the Padre had a chat about his feelings for Miss Nine." The General confided. "Alan still has loyalties for his ex-wife, the Padre thinks they are interfering with his feelings for Miss Nine, on one side he wants to be hers totally, but on the other his loyalty for his ex' prevents him. He's probably right. He's usually accurate in things like that. The Padre wants to meet her and perhaps give her a chance to nail him properly, if she decides that is what she wants."

"Why are we needed?" She asked curiously.

"I think the Padre has a blessing in mind. Plus there is the problem of getting Samuels through the door!"

They were met at the door of the small church by the vicar. "Thank you, General," He claimed as they decanted. "I'd like a few minutes with Miss Seven of Nine in the vestry, alone, if you please! If the rest of you care to wait in the church?"

Gently he took Seven of Nine's arm and led her to the vestry.

"I am sorry for the inconvenience," He apologised, "But I wanted to have a little chat with you about Alan, then perhaps we can sort him out properly. I don't need to tell you how good a man he is, or what drives him, if you didn't know already, there would be little point in telling."

"I am uncertain as to your meaning?" She claimed uncertainly.

The parson sighed, "I was an Air Force Padre at the end of the last war," he began. "I've seen many people not unlike him, scared to get too involved in case they or the one they loved were to die tomorrow. Unlike most, he still holds on to the past, it means he is still trying to be loyal to his wife. It is affecting his reactions to you, I took his wedding ring off him the other day, but to finish the job, so to speak, I wish to know what your feelings are for him?"

She thought for several minutes, fearing a reply in case she said it wrong.

"Do you have desires to be held by him?" Suggested the Padre quietly, trying to help her.

"Yes!" She affirmed immediately.

"Be in his company, at all times?"

"Yes!"

"Miss him, if he goes anywhere without you?"

"Yes!"

"Tolerant of his bad habits?"

"His only bad habit, is his resistance. You are proposing to break that," She pointed out.

"Only you can break it," He claimed, "I am trying to make it possible for you to do so, if and when you wish."

"I understand you care for him when he is hurt? Even when it is dangerous to do so?" He continued his questioning.

"Yes!" Seven of Nine returned to her monosyllabic answers.

"And you do so willingly?"

"Yes!"

"Would it hurt if he decided he wanted somebody else, instead of you?"

"Yes!"

"Would you let him go?" He asked, quickly. "Think carefully about the answer, I want your answer, not his," he insisted.

"If that was what he wished to do, then it would be acceptable," She answered slowly and firmly.

The Padre straightened, "You've answered my original question," he announced, smiling quietly. "I can safely vouch that you are definitely in love and it is sustainable. What I can do for you, if you are willing, is this. I can take you into the Naive, stand both of you together, then ask you both to vow your love for each other in front of his God. It's not a wedding. That will be up to you both to decide upon and you could walk away from it, but it will mean as much to him."

"It is up to you, do you wish him to continue to resist?" He challenged her. "I do not think even you will break him from that habit."

"If I were to disavow the pledge it would hurt him?" It was her turn to ask the questions.

"Yes," he admitted solemnly, "But he would let you go, if he thought you meant it."

"It could kill him?"

"It would make him wish to die," he agreed. "But nothing else seems to be able to kill him."

She considered the question for a few more moments.

"I shall take your vow," she announced finally.

"You mean it?" He responded quickly.

"Yes!" Her reply was instantaneous.

"In that case, my child, we'll move to the Naive." He took her lightly by the hand and led her out.

"If you ladies and gentlemen would care to join us before the altar," he called.

In wonderment they all moved to the front of the church.

"Colonel, stand beside Miss Nine. General Fletcher, stand beside the Colonel and you, Ma'am. I'm sorry I don't know your name?" He asked of Captain Janeway.

"Kathryn Janeway," She volunteered in surprise.

"Ms Janeway, if you would support Miss Seven of Nine? Then we can begin."

"I am not proposing a service of marriage," He announced clearly, "What we are about to witness is an act of blessing, there is no compunction by law upon this act, it will simply clear the dead wood. If anybody, except Colonel Samuels," He glared at him fiercely, "Have any objections, now would be a good time to make them known?"

There was a general shaking of heads from the gathering.

"Good, we shall begin. Colonel, respond as you wish." He commanded.

"Do you Alan Samuels wish to offer your undying love for this woman, Seven of Nine, vowing your total honour and commitment to her? To cherish and love her? And do so willingly, in this house of worship?"

"Yes, Sir!" He announced, surprising himself by his own conviction.

The Padre turned to Seven of Nine.

"Do you Seven of Nine, wish to offer your love for this man, Alan Samuels, vowing your total honour and commitment to him? To cherish and love him? And do so willingly, in this house of worship?"

"I shall comply," She agreed firmly.

"In the name of the Father, the Son and the Holy Ghost, I pronounce a blessing upon your partnership." He moved his hand in the familiar act of signing the cross over the two of them.

"Now for heavens sake. Kiss her, Samuels!" He demanded sharply.

The Colonel did as he was bid and found Seven of Nine's arms wrapping around him holding him in the embrace. There was a cheer from the gathering. General Fletcher reached over to Captain, taking her hand and kissed it.

"Thank you, Kathryn." He announced, "You've no idea just how good it is to see someone do that to him and without the aide of an armed guard."

"We will return to the base for a celebration drink, then we can let you go," He suggested, escorting her out the church.

"What did that ceremony mean?" She asked, still curious.

The General explained. "The Padre can't marry them, so he has simply come up with another way of putting Anneka's ghost to rest. Samuels has made a public statement of his love and his total commitment to Miss Nine. The fact that Miss Nine has also sworn to the same pledge, will mean that he will have no choice but to cut his tie to a woman that will have been dead for six hundred years when you get back!"

"You were right, Sir. It is time I left some of my past behind. Thank you!" The Colonel said to the Padre, after Seven had finally disengaged from him.

"Just make sure you make the most of it, my son. Perhaps your young lady can give to you some of what we owe. Go in peace and happiness, then marry her!" He demanded. He turned back for the vestry.

"Can I get you another drink, Captain?" Asked General Fletcher, in the Mess. The impromptu party had been running for over an hour.

"Thank you, please! You've had this all arranged," The Captain accused him, laughing and accepting another glass of cider. She quite liked this drink, she decided, she wondered if it could be replicated aboard Voyager.

"Not entirely for the reasons you are thinking of," He assured her. "The pledge she made in the church was Miss Nine's and the Padre's doing. This is the Colonel's leaving party."

Sergeant-Major O'Neil approached them carrying a small case. "Excuse me Ma'am," He announced seriously. "But I wonder if you would look after these for the Colonel, there may come a point when he might accept them, or perhaps Miss Nine will accept them for him."

"What are they?" She asked in surprise.

"They are his awards and commendations, Ma'am. His wife and I used to rescue them from the bin. He always threw them away as soon as he got them. But perhaps he will grow a little softer now!" He suggested sadly.

"I doubt he knows how, he certainly hasn't accepted anything from us!" She confided to him, "But I'll take them, if I can read them?"

"Somebody ought to," The Sergeant Major agreed candidly.

"Carry on Sergeant Major." The General interrupted them.

The Sergeant Major took a breath and bellowed. "Ladies and Gentlemen, Silence for the General please!"

The room came to an instant silence.

The General spoke up. "Ladies and Gentlemen, a toast to our departing friend, officer and gentleman, may he and the love of his life, live long in peace and in happiness. Lieutenant-Colonel Alan Samuels!"

"Lieutenant-Colonel Alan Samuels!" Came the general response.

The Colonel immediately responded. "Ladies and Gentlemen, to Her Majesties 60th Rifle Regiment, May it's spirit never break!"

"The Sixtieth!" Came the reply.

"Jones the Blacksmith dropped this off an hour ago," General Fletcher announced to the Colonel, he handing him a long package. "It seems he's been working on it for the last four days. He claims it is better than the original, but you will have to stone it yourself, there wasn't time to do that."

Carefully the Colonel unwrapped it, to find his new sword. He picked it up, marvelling at the intricate patterns in the steelwork.

"It seems a little lighter and perhaps a little shorter than the old one," He commented, "But perfectly balanced," He agreed as he flexed it. "Very acceptable. Could you give him my thanks, please, Sir?"

"Already done." He assured him.

"I wish to give you this as well," he added handing a package to the Colonel. "Don't open it yet, wait until you leave." He added quickly, then turned to the Captain

"I'd like to present you with this as a token of friendship, Captain," He offered her a box.

"What is it?" She asked taking it from him.

"You'll see later," he answered, "Now I think we'll bid our farewells and get back to normal," He suggested.

The Star Fleet party, complete with Colonel Samuels beamed out an hour later from their landing point.

"Well Sergeant-Major, that's the last we'll see of him," The old General commented sadly, as they watched them go.

"He'll be back Sir! Can't keep him away," Sergeant-Major O'Neil opined cheerfully, "But that lady of his will look after him, Sir. You'll see."

"For once Sergeant-Major I fully agree with you! And he will accept it for once!" General Fletcher slapped his Sergeant-Major on the back, "Come on I'll buy you a pint."

"Sir!"

"B'Elanna, how soon can we have the device ready?" Captain Janeway asked as soon as they beamed aboard.

"About twenty-four hours Captain," B'Elanna confidently predicted. "I'll get Vorick assembling the parts now."

"Progress report in twenty hours," She demanded, "I'm going to sleep this head off first. Tuvok, get us underway, back to our arrival point."

"Captain," He agreed blandly.

In her cabin she divested herself of her jacket and opened the carton given her by General Fletcher. She took out the plaque she found there and examined it. The door chimed.

"Enter," She called.

"What do you want Colonel?" She asked tiredly as he stepped across the threshold.

"Permission to speak Ma'am?" He asked formally.

"Carry on!" She agreed.

"I'd like to thank you Ma'am, for letting me stay. For once I think I'm following the right advice. But I'd like to ask you to take care of this for me Ma'am?"

He handed her one of the packages he had been given.

"What is it?" She asked, examining the green cloth it contained.

"It's the Regimental Colours, Ma'am. The most precious thing in the Regiment. Lose them and the Regiment is lost. They are better off in your keeping, until we reach Earth again."

She nodded an agreement. "Can you tell me what this is?" She indicated the brass plaque she had been given.

"It's an original shako badge of the America's Rifles, Ma'am. We found some in the stores in Colchester, and turned them into presentation plaques. I didn't think there were any left." He answered immediately.

"It's a work of art," She commented, marveling at its intricacies. "Thank you. We'll try to keep them all safe. We'll talk properly tomorrow." She assured him.

"Good night Alan," She slipped it in, to see what the reaction would be.

"Good night Kathryn," He responded coolly, taking his leave.

"Miss Nine. I know we are not married and you have the right to refuse any request I may make, especially as the request may be construed improper. But I must ask. May I embrace and kiss you , then join you for regeneration in bed. I'm dog tired?" The Colonel stammered.

"That is acceptable," She agreed immediately, revelling in him volunteering to join her in bed for once. Though a touch of disappointment hit her that he had not volunteered anything else.

He stooped and picked her up in his arms, she clung to him fiercely.

"Tradition has it I should carry a bride across the threshold of a new life," He answered her unasked question, as he stepped through the door. She kissed him passionately, as they collapsed onto the bed. They curled up in each others arms as they dropped into sleep.

The whole ship waited breathlessly as B'Elanna Torres fed power to the time machine carefully via the deflector array. It had been decided that the machine should be beamed off the ship and power applied remotely, to avoid the danger of an explosion.

"Coming up to full power now, Captain," She announced.

"There is a power surge establishing itself in the machine," Confirmed Ensign Kim. "A spatial rift is forming."

"Tom, as soon as it's big enough, head for it," Captain Janeway ordered. "The Delta Quadrant, isn't home, but it's a hell of a lot nearer than here!"

"Aye Ma'am," He responded,

"We are being pulled in," He confirmed a few minutes later.

Again the screen in front of them started to spin, then settled as they emerged from the rift.

"Report!" Captain Janeway demanded.

Seven of Nine responded from Astro metrics. "We have emerged in the Delta Quadrant, 300 light years from our start point, but nearer the Alpha Quadrant, 10 days earlier than entry. There was a deviation in the reconstruction of the device. I shall engage a new sensor sweep." She commented.

"I'll live with that, we're two months nearer home," The Captain drawled happily.

In Astro metrics, Seven returned to the Colonel, wrapping her arms around him again and laying her head against his chest, savouring the flood of feelings of love and protection she was feeling. "I love you!" She murmured. She had been given a definition for the term that seemed right and had answered the questions she had spent so long attempting to solve. She revelled in it.

  
  


Revision 17

  


   [1]: mailto:story@rgower.f9.co.uk



	4. Sirens

# 1-13 Sirens

_Voyager meet a new race that is prepared to offer friendship and help in their quest. The price proves to be high..._

_Voyager and characters (except the Colonel) in this story are copyright of Paramount. No resemblance is intended to any person alive or dead._

_The story line and the Colonel is my own._

_Constructive criticism and comments are welcome on e-mail [story@rgower.f9.co.uk][1]._

_If like me you like to know why things occur like they do, I would heartily recommend you start at chapter 1-01 Castaway. This will be the last story of the series, probably!_

_This story is rated PG_

  


Through the dark of space a small dark ship flitted silently and unobserved. It was the way the builders had intended it to be, an advanced stealth space ship, hovering on the brink of reality and unreality. The Ships Captain licked her lips nervously, watching the white vessel on her screen. The vessel she had been following for the last week had proven to have more than a few tricks of it's own, she was not at all certain that her vessel wouldn't be detected by some new trick that they suddenly discovered, they certainly appeared to be inventive enough. 

The Valorians had detected the vessel nine days ago when it had suddenly appeared, the Queen had ordered an immediate investigation and had dispatched her ship to do so. They were a cautious race, with good reason to be nervous of strange races, but they had a need that could only be fulfilled by others so they inspected visitors to their sector carefully.

She turned to her Second in Command, aide and Intelligence Officer. "Well Martha? Your scans have been completed?"

"Yes your Highness. I apologise for them taking so long, but we had to use ultra low power scans to escape detection. But we have interrogated the ship and now know more about them than they do!" She boasted.

"And the results?"

"The vessel is a long way from their home, more than twenty thousand light years. It is named the Voyager, technology slightly behind ours. Crew 147 of mixed race and gender. Mostly Terrans from a planet called Earth. Generally peaceful, their weakness is the desire to return home. They are compatible. The Captain is Kathryn Janeway. There are three crew members that do not conform to their usual pattern. One is a Talaxian and is nothing to worry about. The second is a Terran, but was rescued from the Borg collective. She could be a problem. The third is more interesting. He is also a Terran, but is from their past, it seems he was involved in some form of accident. The ships' logs suggest that he is a warrior, very violent and protective. He has had a major impact on the safety of the vessel. He would be a serious threat. He is involved with the Borg female. He is also unsure of himself in their presence, so could be tempted."

The Captain nodded. "Very well, call up the 'Welcome Ship." She ordered, "We will transfer to that and we will welcome them and see if we can tempt them peacefully."

"Yes, your Highness!" The aide bowed low in acknowledgement of her Mistresses command.

  


The Colonel sat up in the bed sharply, barely stifling the cry that had come unbidden to his lips. He sat silently, shivering with sweat beading and then trickling down his body. In the dimmed lights of his quarters he looked around, whilst desperately trying to remember what the dream was that had woken him so violently. He could not remember having anything so unnerving before. His eyes alighted upon the woman lying on the bed beside him, for a few moments he wondered who she was. It came to him slowly, Seven of Nine, the ex-Borg, part machine all woman, beautiful, intelligent but misguided. She had to be, he thought, to have fallen in love with him and be prepared to declare it publicly barely a fortnight ago. The fact that he had also done so seemed irrelevant, he had nothing to lose, or so he thought.

The young woman stirred, the cool of the air on her naked back in place of the warmth of his chest disturbing her sleep. He smiled softly and tenderly tucked the covers around her as he swung himself out of the bed. In the dark he dressed himself, then approached the replicator. "Computer, glass of chilled water, 10 degrees Celsius." He commanded quietly. The required item appeared and he drank it thankfully, then approached the door.

"Your regeneration cycle is not complete. You should return to bed." An off hand voice came from the bed.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to wake you." He apologised. "I was having an unpleasant dream."

"You should discuss it. That is what you have told me. You have been having them for the last few nights."

He nodded. "Yes I probably should." He agreed. "But not now, not until I've worked out what and why I was dreaming. Go back to sleep. There's nothing wrong."

He returned to the bed, leaned over and kissed her gently. "Would you like me to sing you a lullaby?" He asked.

"That will not be necessary. You wish to be alone." It was a statement.

"It will never cease to amaze me. Just how well you know me, but manage to ignore the bad bits." He admitted quietly.

"You have been an efficient teacher." She pointed out. "Your techniques work on you as well."

He smiled and turned for the door again and left her to return to sleep.

She didn't, instead she sat and thought for a little, then got up herself, dressed and went to her computer console in Cargo Bay 2. Absentmindedly she picked up the teddy bear that habitually lived in one of the rooms easy chairs.

"Computer play personal logs starting 26046.78." She demanded softly, then sat back and listened to some of her inner thoughts since she had met the tall soldier.

  


The Colonel found his way to the Mess, it was deserted at that time of night, so he sat himself in front of a window and worried at his thoughts. Finally it came to him. 

He was afraid of the future, his role in it, now he was stuck in something he would never really understand or control. The possibility of Seven of Nine deciding that he had been right, he didn't deserve her, the thought terrified him even more than the idea that she could love him had. Now he had something to look forward to. The uncertain nature of his future was looking bleak

Now he had a cause for his disquiet. He considered what he could do about it. He got up and walked to the Science Labs. There he inspected some of the materials he found, but found no immediate inspiration, so sat at a computer terminal instead and began to study.

  


The Captains door opened early that morning, to reveal Seven of Nine. "I wish to talk." She announced without preamble and walking in. She assumed her usually easy stance, arms behind her back.

"It's a little early in the morning." The Captain commented mildly, stifling a yawn and putting the remains of her breakfast down. "I thought you'd given up asking me about human emotions?"

"The emotions I wish to discuss are not my own." Seven of Nine responded evenly.

"The Colonel?" The Captain guessed. "How have you two been getting on?"

"He is still having difficulty adjusting. I have examined both his and my logs. I believe he is still uncertain of his status in the future. I believe he is afraid of it and that fear is giving him nightmares."

The Captain nodded. "It figures. His life has changed drastically again, it must be frightening and we know behind everything he can be frightened, it's just not at the same things as everybody else! He's having to accept that people actually care for him and one has even declared that she loves him. That is one of the few things that don't appear in that book of regulations. He may have helped you, but I think you may have had just as big an effect on him!"

"I've been going over the records Sergeant Major O'Neil gave me on Earth." The Captain announced, indicating the desk. "They make amazing reading. I wouldn't believe them if they weren't official, they read like something that Tom Paris dreams up for the Holodeck."

"Lieutenant Paris is highly inventive and possesses an active imagination." Agreed Seven.

"It's not as though there are only one or two, but there's 50 of them, many from different organisations!" The Captain continued, picking up a couple of papers at random and read highlights. "Commendation for actions carried out in the selfless pursuit of relieving suffering in the Earthquakes in Nepal. Where 24 men from Her Majesties 60th Rifles, under the command of Major Alan Samuels over a period of 21 days, did carry 12 tonnes of food and medical aide to the relief of villages in the high mountains through impassable land slides, treated the injured and erected shelter for the inhabitants. And through this action prevented plague and pestilence. For bravery in the face of the enemy, 150 troops against three hundred tanks and a division of infantry. Emergency famine relief in Africa. Everyone has a little note pinned to it refusing the award. This one appears to be where he came in." She held up a yellowing newspaper cutting. 

"Super Hero, Rescues Nurse from Gang." She read. "Fifteen year old, Alan Samuels, on the run from a childrens hostel, is recovering from multiple stab wounds in hospital, after rescuing student Nurse Mandy Chambers from an attempted gang rape by a fifteen strong gang of youths in Leeds last night. Said Mandy Chambers, 'He was amazing, they kept hitting at us with knifes, but he wouldn't let them past. Instead he kept hitting them back with his fists.' She is standing vigil by his bedside. Six of the gang are in hospital under armed police guard, four others are being held for questioning. A police spokesman announced that Alan is also wanted in relation to preventing an armed Bank Robbery three weeks ago in London, where he was injured by a shotgun blast protecting a police constable. The spokesman warned that nobody should attempt to repeat these actions, but should call for the Police. 'We are not all indestructible,' He declared. Social Services have refused to comment as to which hostel he escaped or his future."

"There are a few others as well. The trouble is, even if he doesn't like the term, he is a genuine all action super hero." She continued in wonderment. "We can't offer him a life like that."

"I think you ought to look after them, Seven." She offered, "They're his history and belong to you both."

"He does not like being reminded of his past, he will destroy them if he finds them." The ex-Borg pointed out. "They will be safer in your possession. I do not need to know what others thought of him, I know what kind of person he is."

"That's true, so do we." Admitted the Captain softly, "But it's nice to know others have appreciated his qualities, if only for a moment."

"How far is he from completing your studies?" She asked suddenly. "I want to give him the status he deserves and the responsibilities to go with it."

"Tactical and command abilities are superior to Star Fleet parameters. But he is still incapable of grasping some theoretical concepts." Responded Seven automatically.

"There is still a question mark over his mental stability. It is still a possibility for it to become an issue again." The Captain reminded her.

"He is aware of that danger. It is what drives him to be what he is. He will not suffer a similar breakdown." Seven promised.

The Captain sighed. The same problems were meeting the same obstacles. "I wonder whose regulations are the least flexible, ours or his. Can we push his theoretical studies harder or in a different way?"

"You are assuming he wishes to qualify as a Star Fleet Officer and there is a need for him to be one." Seven responded. "His benefit to this vessel is that he does not approach problems using Star Fleet methods. Perhaps you should ask him his opinion?"

The Captain looked at her sharply. "What do you think he wishes to be? Star Fleet Troopers perform nothing like the range of duties that the Colonel can and does do, and I don't see him in the Pioneer Corps either." She paused, then added slyly. "Perhaps the better question would be what are your plans for the future? After all, he's devoted to you!"

"I have no plans for the future." Seven replied honestly. "I am not eager to go to Earth."

The Captain nodded. "Perhaps it's time you should. When we get there, you will be with us and you'll need some goal. I will talk to him for you though, I've been meaning to since we returned from his home. Where is he?"

"I do not know. He omitted to put his jacket on when he left his quarters, the computer cannot locate him by his comm badge. I believe he wishes to be alone for a period." Seven admitted.

"Okay, I'll wait until he surfaces." The Captain agreed good naturedly.

"Captain to the Bridge." Chakotay's voice sounded over the intercom, interrupting further discussion. "We have visitors!"

"No peace for the wicked." The Captain sighed, snatching up her own uniform jacket and shrugging it on. "I promise I will talk to him and get him to accept he has a future." She added to Seven of Nine, as a parting shot hurrying through the door.

She arrived on the Bridge to find Chakotay talking to a tall woman on the view screen. He turned to her, he was wearing a slightly soft smile, she noticed.

"Captain, this is the Princess Mardila of Valoria, they are offering us a place to rest." He announced happily.

She turned to the screen and examined the woman closely. As she had already observed she appeared to be tall, probably approaching the Colonels 1.9M. Slim and well proportioned, dark haired. She was young, no more than her mid twenty's, and very beautiful, she reflected, she felt quite jealous.

"I am Captain Kathryn Janeway of the Federation Star Ship Voyager." She announced. "I thank you for your very generous offer, but I don't know if we have anything to offer you in return."

"I am sure we will find something." Princess Mardila informed her. Her voice seemed friendly and had a strange melodic property to it, the Captain found it quite disarming.

"If you would care to follow my yacht, then we will guide you through our defence perimeter to Valoria. You and your officers will obviously come aboard for hospitality?"

"Why, Thank you. I am sure we will enjoy the experience." The Captain, somewhat taken aback by the display of friendliness, managed to thank their new host. "There at least we can reciprocate?" She offered quickly.

"I shall let my aide Martha arrange the necessary formalities." The Princess announced. "She will contact you shortly."

The Princess closed the communication.

Captain Janeway turned to her second officer. "It seems we have a friend in the wilderness. Have we scanned their vessel?"

Chakotay nodded. "Basic scans only. They have warp capability, the ship is better armed than it looks, it carries' a huge range of weapons, photonic, temporal, plasma, you name it they've got it. They would be a difficult host to fight. But nothing is charged and their shields are down. So they appear to be as friendly as they look."

"Okay, we'll take a party across. Tuvok will remain here. Otherwise, I'll leave the decision to you." She decided. 

"I suppose it will be formal dress." She sighed at the thought as she sat in her chair.

  


The Colonel emerged from his studies, briefly, at lunch time and made his way back to the Mess. He expressed some surprise at the heightened level of activity in the corridors to Neelix.

"We've been met by a friendly race." The excited cook explained. "The Valorians. We're due to exchange visits with them en route to their home planet. The Captain wants the ship tip-top for their visit."

"We've met friendly races before. Why such extremes now?" The Colonel asked curiously.

"We think they may be able to offer us some help getting home, but don't appear to be asking for anything. Their princess is extremely beautiful, or so I'm told."

"So the Captain is swayed by Royalty." The Colonel commented. "I'll take today's special please."

He took his plate to his customary corner table and ate quietly. He was joined by Chakotay.

"I was hoping to find you here." He announced. "Would you like to join the Valorian Dinner Party?"

"If there's a choice, then not especially." The Colonel replied calmly. "I had other plans for this evening."

"You could be of assistance." Chakotay urged, a little peeved at the Colonels lack of enthusiasm. "You have more experience dealing with Royalty than anybody else on this ship."

"You are correct, Sir. I have had experience of Royalty and met a few. I've served a Queen most of my life and I've strutted around in parades for quite a few. But it's an experience I would rather not go through again, I know my place and it's not with the gentry." The Colonel admitted neutrally.

"Actually it's quite easy, you reply when spoken to. Address them as 'Your Highness' or 'Your Majesty'. Ensure you bow each time you say it, avoid long words and don't put your elbows on the table at dinner. Under the formality younger ones tend to be quite dim but otherwise normal."

"You don't like Royalty?" Chakotay asked in surprise. "I thought you swore an oath to serve your Queen?"

"Don't get me wrong Commander." The Colonel responded. "A monarch is as good a way of controlling a nation as any, probably better than most. I willingly took the shilling and swore to serve and protect the Queen of England and I would do it again. But it is not my place to go hobnobbing with them." 

"Besides I have my own princess." He added quietly a slight smile playing on his face. "And she's a lot more important for me to impress, just at the moment, thank you."

"Well, I won't force you. It's a volunteer's only thing." Chakotay agreed, catching the intonation, accepting the Colonel's wishes and getting up. "The Captain will be disappointed though. If you change your mind then let me know? We'll be leaving at three."

"I'm sure you'll have adequate volunteers, Commander," the Colonel mildly. "So I doubt I'll be missed." He also stood and saluted the departing Commander, then returned to the lab he had been working in.

  


"Aren't the Colonel and Seven coming?" The Captain asked Chakotay, as the dinner party gathered in the transporter room.

"They declined. Seven wants to realign her cubicle and the Colonel had other plans. I suspect they have something to do with Seven. I didn't have the heart to order them to come." Chakotay remarked with a sly smile.

"I was hoping for his guidance. I've never met a live Princess before." The Captain remarked.

"He offered some guidance." Chakotay admitted still smiling. "Speak when spoken to, bow and respond with 'Your Highness', don't put your elbows on the table and don't expect intelligent conversation."

"That seems simple enough, we'll see how wrong he is." The Captain agreed happily. "Energise!"

They beamed to the Valorian vessel to be met by their welcoming committee, all women, all young and all remarkably attractive the Captain noticed.

Two women stepped forward.

"Captain Janeway?"

She nodded.

"I am Martha, Personal Aide to Princesses Madila." The foremost woman announced, she appeared to be older than the rest, perhaps forty the Captain guessed. "This is Athena, the Royal Yachts Commander. The Princesses will meet you a little later, but in the mean time may we extend our hospitality to you with drinks and a tour?"

"Thank you. We would like that." The Captain responded calmly. Despite her seeming confidence she was still felt a little nervous. "May I introduce the rest of my party?"

"You may." The response seemed cool almost uncaring.

"My second in command, Commander Chakotay. Chief pilot Lieutenant Tom Paris. Senior Engineer Lieutenant B'Elanna Torres. Navigation Officer Ensign Harry Kim." She intoned formally.

"You are all welcome. Tell me Captain these are all of your command officers?"

"I have my Security Officer, who is temporarily in command of my ship and there are two others whom I find invaluable, but they have other duties to perform." Janeway admitted carefully.

Martha nodded. "If you will follow me, I'll show you to our reception room," She announced.

As they walked, they passed a number of the crew, all were female in their characteristic skin tight uniforms. Kim asked. "Excuse me Ma'am, but are all your crew females?"

"Almost all." The tall Valorian woman replied. "It is the nature of our race that we have few male children, and most of those were destroyed by a terrible war a hundred cycles ago. We cherish our male off spring accordingly."

The Voyager crew looked at each other slightly bemused by the confession.

  


Aboard the Voyager the Colonel was approaching Tuvok. "Excuse me Commander. Could you spare me a few moments please, Sir?" He asked.

"I am involved with ship command." Tuvok pointed out impassively.

"Nothing appears to be going wrong, there is no alert and your relief crew is generally competent, Sir." The Colonel pointed out calmly. "Nor am I going to ask you to leave your post unless you consider it necessary, but my request is on a subject that you profess to be close to what passes as your heart."

Tuvok considered the Colonel's statements carefully. "Very well." He announced. "What is your request?"

He saw the Colonel swallow, almost nervously. "I'd like to sit your Star Fleet examination. Sir?"

The statement stunned even the impassive Vulcan. "You are ready for the test and wish to attempt it?" He asked in mild confusion.

"Yes, Sir!"

"You should refer to Seven of Nine," he commanded.

"With you permission, Sir, I'd rather not! he exclaimed. I'd like it to be something of a surprise, Sir. I know you oppose the Captains enthusiasm regarding my duties and rightly so, but you are fair with it. So I'd rather have you as the examiner than Miss Nine as a distraction, Sir!"

"It will undoubtedly be a surprise should you pass and not just to Seven of Nine." Tuvok agreed. 

He considered the proposal. It would be interesting to see the Colonel struggle for once, he decided. "Very well I shall bring up the test paper's, if you will go into the Conference Room. I will be there directly."

"The examination requires five hours." Tuvok reminded the Colonel as he placed the required eight PADDS on the table. "You may answer the papers in any order you wish, but must answer all questions fully. I will review each paper on completion and you will have ten minutes to correct any or all questions inadequately answered. There will be no discussion. The terminal is configured to provide necessary assistance."

The Colonel nodded his agreement at the terms. "Thank you Sir!"

He quickly took out a wad of blank paper and pen, checked the PADDS, selected the first and commenced work.

"This is not a traditional written test." Tuvok pointed out. "Calligraphy is not required nor is there sufficient time for such manual responses."

"I am aware of that Sir." The Colonel replied. "But I find I can often deduce an answer with pen and paper quicker than on a terminal. The rules allow me to use my own methods do they not?" He asked without looking up. 

"You may continue." Tuvok gruffly agreed. "I shall return in thirty minutes to mark the first paper.

He left for the Bridge, to find that the Bridge Crew were taking bets on the Colonels chances of success.

"How do you think he'll do, Sir?" Ensign Carver asked good naturedly from the Tactical station.

"Colonel Samuels has never shown great ability to grasp theoretical concepts." Tuvok responded honestly. "Yet it seems unlikely he would volunteer for anything he believed he could not achieve. I am unsure of the outcome, nor is this an appropriate discussion for the Bridge. We will leave the speculation until he has completed the examination."

  


"Captain Janeway, may I present the Princess Madila." Martha intoned. They had just returned from their tour of the ship.

The Captain bobbed a bow towards the Princesses. "Your Highness. You have a truly marvelous ship." She complemented. The princess was every bit as beautiful and melodious as she had appeared on the view screen. The beauty was now enhanced by a glimmering tiara and a cape that glimmered and flashed as she moved.

"Thank you, Captain. Martha tells me you have a marvelous story to tell. I like stories. You will tell me some of it. Perhaps over dinner?"

"Certainly. If it will not bore, your Majesty." Agreed the Captain amiably.

The dinner followed a similar pattern to the formal dinners the Colonel held, though there was no round table entertainment or toasts. Instead the visitors were shown into the dance hall immediately after the meal was complete. The Captain noted that her male crew members were soon being invited to dance by their female hosts. She also noted that B'Elanna was looking a little put out.

"Don't be too miffed," She commented softly to her. "I don't think there are enough men so the chance of a dance with a male must be something new. I suggest if you want to join the dancing you should approach one of the Valorian crew."

"I wouldn't mind." B'Elanna replied angrily, "But they are just too beautiful to be true. Tom is not the Colonel. He's getting rather too attached to that woman." She indicated the Valorian officer that Tom Paris was snuggling up too.

"I see what you mean." The Captain agreed. "I'm sure nothing untoward will happen."

"Captain. The Princess would like to give you an audience in her chamber." Martha announced coming up behind them both. "If you would both like to follow me?"

They followed the woman into a lavishly furnished and decorated sitting room. 

"Please make yourselves comfortable. Her Highness will join you in a moment." She commanded, providing them with drinks.

The Princess joined them with a drink of her own. This time she was dressed in a comfortable but bland looking, sari. 

"Thank you for joining me in my rooms." She announced softly. "It is so good not to have to be formal sometimes. Here I am simply Madila. Please use that name."

"Thank you, Madila." The Captain pronounced carefully. "Please call me Kathryn and my colleague B'Elanna."

The Princess laughed, it tinkled like a bell. "Good. Real friends at last! Now please tell me more about your voyage. It seems so thrilling. And this Super Hero of yours the Colonel, he is even more thrilling."

Carefully they started to describe their adventures, correcting each other occasionally as they warmed to the task. Charmed by the girlish enthusiasm of their host.

After they finished their stories, the Princess smiled. "After such exciting stories, perhaps we can offer you some assistance. We know of several wormholes. One at least must take you at least part of the way back to your home. I shall ask Martha to execute a study to see if there is something suitable, if that would meet your approval?"

"Indeed it would! Your Highness." The Captain admitted in surprise. "Thank you very much."

"It will take a couple of days, long enough for you to see our home world, it is very beautiful. And I'm sure my mother the Queen Dessira will wish to meet you before you finish your journey."

  


Tuvok was inspecting the Colonel's completed tests, there had been a couple of minor errors, but the Colonel had corrected them quickly. Now he was faced with the task of inspecting them in detail. Finally he looked up from the task.

"Lieutenant Colonel Samuels. I must formally advise you that your methods are unorthodox." He announced to the waiting Colonel. The Bridge strained to hear.

"However I must also advise you that you have successfully completed the Star Fleet promotion examination."

A cheer broke out amongst the eavesdropping crew.

"It is not a good pass." Tuvok cautioned, "But your experiences and endeavours aboard this ship will undoubtedly go to sway Star Fleet of your command potential. I will formally withdraw my objections to any decision that the Captain makes."

"Thank you Sir!" The Colonel announced, slamming a salute. "May I be dismissed?"

"You may go." Agreed Tuvok.

The Colonel almost danced into the lift. Phase one of his plan had been completed.

In his quarters he relaxed into a chair, waiting for Seven of Nine to appear. She did so an hour later after a three-hour regeneration cycle in the cargo bay.

"Miss Nine!" He called happily, standing and handing her a tall glass filled from the last bottle of Metheglin. "You will be glad to hear I've finally booted my backside into gear and completed the examinations you've been so patiently trying to prepare me for during the last year. I've finally applied myself!"

"You were successful?"

"Not brilliant perhaps. But adequate for a start." He admitted. "Perhaps I won't seem quite so stupid anymore?"

"You were never stupid." Seven protested. "You are an individual's, individual, that is why you are acceptable and a benefit."

"I still am, but perhaps less likely to get lost in this age of wonders and better able to support you?" He quizzed.

Despite her cool attitude, she had to admit to herself that she was pleased and proud if a little surprised at his actions. Finally she smiled, that rare smile he worked so long and hard for. "You are my Collective. You will obey?"

"Never a doubt and no more bad dreams." He claimed, putting his arms around her and kissing her firmly. She responded likewise. Pushing him back onto the straight-backed chair, he happened to be standing in front of. She straddled his lap, arms still around him, then kissed his neck as she lay her head against his shoulder. Gently she fondled the dead implant at the nape of his neck.

  


As the Captain and her crew left the Princess turned to her aide. "Did we get the necessary data?"

"Yes your Highness. The mechanoids will be ready by the time we reach Valoria. We shall place transponders when we visit their vessel." Martha replied.

"There is one other. I want the Colonel. He will be invaluable." The Princess ordered.

"It will be difficult, Your Highness, we may not have the time to create a good mechanoid. They could suspect." Martha cautioned her mistress

"Provided the mechanoid lasts until the wormhole, it doesn't matter. They cannot come back and claim him." The Princess predicted.

"As you command your Majesty." Responded Martha reluctantly.

  


The Captain went in search of the Colonel the following morning. She found him working in the Science Labs.

"I was a little disappointed that you didn't join us yesterday, Colonel." She chided gently.

"I'm sorry Ma'am." He replied honestly. "It appeared to be a Star Fleet thing, so there was no requirement for me to attend and I was doing something else that seemed more important."

"So I heard, you caught Tuvok by surprise. Congratulations are in order. But why?" She asked. "You've shown little interest and even less ability to handle the theory. How did you do it?"

"The 'how?' is easy. I simply examined the computer's test papers and answered them. I've been working on them for some time, it's just that yesterday I completed the studies and wanted to get it over and done with, before I chickened out again. It wasn't perfect, Commander Tuvoks papers asked a couple of new questions, but I managed to fudge those." He admitted. "The 'Why' is a little more difficult to explain. It appears you have voluntarily lumbered yourself with me, so it was about time I knuckled down and learnt about it properly." 

"There was another reason as well, Ma'am."

"Oh?" She queried, though she suspected the answer.

"Well it seems that no matter what, I seem to have landed Miss Nine. It is, perhaps, time I started to do something to genuinely woo her. I'd like her to be sure that I do love her and can keep up with her. Maybe have a little pride in me?"

The Captain laughed. "You could have fooled us. We thought you'd been wooing her since you joined. So what else are you planning, I don't think she'll appreciate flowers and chocolates."

"I wasn't knowingly doing so Ma'am." He commented wryly. "I was simply trying to offer friendship, I think I overcooked it. I suspect you are correct about flowers and chocolates though. What do you suggest?"

"I don't know." She admitted. "Perhaps you could convince her she wants to go to Earth? Or perhaps you know what you want to do in the future?"

"I'd like Miss Nine to be my future, Captain. The rest I think I will have to wait and see what turns up. I still don't think I will ever really fit in Star Fleet. Returning to Earth? I'm not desperately certain I want to either. I've probably seen more of it a lot closer than you have, a fair amount leaves an unpleasant taste, so whilst I may be of benefit to Historians, I don't know if there is anything of benefit to me, it's not home anymore!"

"We will have to wait and see. The Valorians are visiting us today. I want to present you to the Princess Madila. She was very impressed with our stories about you." She claimed, changing subjects.

"If that is an order, I shall ensure I'm in my number ones." He assured her

"What are you hoping to gain from them, with all the hobnobbing, Captain?" He asked quietly.

"They have coordinates for a couple of wormholes. They believe one of them may lead almost directly to the Alpha Quadrant. They are analysing their data now." The Captain explained happily. "If one of them does, then I think it's worth all the 'hobnobbing'. Don't you?"

"There were several sayings in my time, Ma'am." He replied. "Don't look a gift horse in the mouth', was one I had little truck with. The other 'Beware of Turks bearing gifts', always seemed to have a lot more sense to it. It is my experience that people, no matter how friendly, always want something, the less they say the more they actually want. I suspect this is a Gift Horse that needs inspection not just in the mouth, but every other orifice as well. If they are real friends then they'll accept our caution."

"You are an out and out cynic!" She challenged in amusement.

"Yes, Ma'am. It leads to a longer life." He agreed evenly.

"Perhaps you will change your mind when you meet them. They'll be here in an hour. Be sure you're in Transporter Room 2 to meet them." She commanded, turning away.

The Colonel sighed and picked up his things and returned to his quarters. 

  


B'Elanna Torres was also in search of somebody. In her case it was Seven of Nine. She found her at her usual station in Astro metrics.

"Seven?" She called nervously.

"Lieutenant Torres." Seven responded coolly.

"I'd like some advice, please? If you can spare the time?" Torres asked, even more nervously.

Seven looked at her with surprise, this was a rare event, B'Elanna Torres rarely sought advice from anybody, let alone her. 

"Very well." She agreed calmly. "Upon what subject?"

"That ceremony in the Church on Earth, did it have an effect?" B'Elanna asked quickly.

The question surprised the ex-Borg even more than having the engineer asking them. "You wish to ask me a question about humanity?" Her surprise and metallic eyebrow reaching the levels of incredulous.

B'Elanna nodded anxiously.

She considered her answer carefully. "It settled the uncertainty." She admitted cautiously. "The Colonel is more responsive."

"What did that Padre say to you in the vestry?"

"He tested my feelings for the Colonel by asking simple questions with simpler answers." Seven admitted. "It enabled me to fully understand my feelings. Why?"

"Do you think a similar ceremony would work for Tom and me?" B'Elanna asked, ignoring Seven's question.

"I do not know." She admitted. "The ceremony was arranged by the Padre to persuade the Colonel to release his feelings for his ex-wife and make him accept the alternative possibilities. Why?" She asked again, more firmly.

Torres took a deep breath. "When I saw Tom dancing with that Valorian woman I could have killed both of them." She confessed. "I want him to know my feelings and remember them. I was wondering if a similar ceremony for us would achieve the same results for us?"

"Your reasoning is valid." Commented Seven. "However I cannot supply a definitive answer. Neither of you shares the Colonel's religion."

"Nor do you. But it helped you!" B'Elanna pointed out enthusiastically.

"Yes it did." Seven conceded. "It may have a beneficial effect, but there is no equivalent of the Padre on the ship."

"But there is the Colonel! I bet he could perform it!" B'Elanna announced her excitement building.

Seven viewed the excited engineer with growing interest. "Perhaps you should ask him?" She suggested.

"I will. Thank you, Seven!" B'Elanna announced, turning on her heel and leaving.

"You are welcome." Seven said after she left. She suppressed a grin of amusement at the Engineer's actions and returned to her console.

  


The Colonel in his quarters carefully took his dress uniform out of its wardrobe and dressed as prescribed. It seemed as out of place as he was, a uniform that was designed in the Seventeenth Century, worn by a Twentieth Century soldier, aboard a Twenty-fifth Century space ship, long after his world had disappeared under the onslaught of progress. Finally he crammed his Shako on his head and marched for the Transporter Room at the double, Voyager crew members stepping aside in awe as he passed.

There he slammed to attention and saluted the assembly awaiting the Valorians. "Lieutenant Colonel Samuels reporting as ordered. Ma'am!" He snapped.

The Captain blushed deeply. The Colonel's dress uniform always made the Star Fleet equivalent seem so shabby. Its dark green cotton, razor sharp creases, polished leather and glimmering silver not comparing to the generally shapeless and nondescript Star Fleet jacket and trousers.

"Stand easy, Colonel." She calmed him with a smile. "I'd forgotten just how spectacular you look in that uniform. Can we hide behind you? You make us look like tramps."

"Ma'am." He responded with a grimace.

They stood back as their Valorian visiting party was beamed aboard.

The Captain stepped forward. "Your Highness welcome to the USS Voyager." 

"Thank you Captain." The Princess announced, stepping from the transporter pad. She was wearing the same slick black costume and cape as she had worn during the dinner yesterday, resulting in the fascination of the majority of the male greeting party.

"May I present the three officers that were not present last night?" The Captain offered.

"I would appreciate it." The Princess agreed regally.

The Captain did so. "Lieutenant Commander Tuvok, Ships Security Officer. Seven of Nine, Science Officer and Lieutenant Colonel Alan Samuels, of Her Majesties 60th Rifle Regiment, our friend and ally."

The Princess stopped in front of the Colonel and examined him closely from his glass polished shoes to the similarly polished shako. All the while he stood at attention without moving or displaying recognition of her interest "The Captain has told me a lot about you." She announced with a broad smile. "I can see you are every thing she described. You look most spectacular." She held out her hand magnificently.

The Colonel bowed stiffly and kissed the proffered cool hand. "Your Highness, favours me with complements." He intoned just as stiffly.

The Princess ignored the seeming hostility in his voice. "I hope you will be at my table for dinner. I'd like to hear more stories about you."

"I'm sure the Captain has designated as she sees fit, your Highness" He assured her.

She nodded her acceptance and moved back to the Captain. "He will be at my table, will he not?" She queried.

"It can be arranged, your Highness." She agreed with a smile. "If you care to come with us we will show you the rest of our ship."

"That woman is a spider. Beautiful, flirtatious and suggestive. Please make sure I'm not in her presence alone." The Colonel commented to Seven of Nine as the party left the room and they were left alone. "Do you know the race?"

"Species 3872, Valorian. They have never been successfully assimilated, but are generally harmless. Females out number males by a factor of 100 to 1." She recited. "You believe they are a danger?"

"Probably only to my pride." He admitted with a wry smile.

"Shall we go somewhere quiet, perhaps they'll forget about us?" He asked, without much hope.

"That is unlikely. The Princess has expressed a deep interest in you." Seven pointed out, "We should go to the Mess ready for their appearance."

He sighed. "You're right as always, M'Lady. May I take your arm?"

"That is acceptable." She agreed readily, so they left for the Mess.

  


The Princess turned to the Colonel over dinner. "The Captain tells me you served a Queen, who was she, did you ever meet her?"

"Yes, your Highness." He admitted cheerfully. "Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth the Queen of England, Great Britain and the Commonwealth. I took her shilling at the age of 15 and served in her army for thirty-seven years as a soldier. I still do, in a way."

"Yet you became a member of this ship? What role do you fulfil?"

"I have orders to serve and protect them, your Highness. Otherwise, I try to make myself useful without getting in the way."

"There can be little opportunity for you to carry out your orders. It must be very boring with nobody to fight?" She suggested with an open smile. "Don't you miss commanding men?"

The Colonel considered the questions. "I find there are things I miss from my home world, fighting isn't one of them, on balance I find that there are things I would miss more here. As for boredom, that was a feature at home as well. This is a foreign flagged ship sailing in a media I am still learning about, I cannot command it and again I can't say I would go home just to have that privilege again."

"I sympathise with your position." She commented. "But wouldn't you like to command again? Have power over the lives of people? Perhaps take a mate of your choosing that is your equal?"

Again the Colonel had to consider her questions. "I have a mate, your highness." He conceded. "She is not my equal, rather superior to be honest, but I don't think I could choose better. If left to my own devices I doubt I would ever have one. If you mean, would I like to rule over people'. I would make an awful king, absolutely no grasp of politics. I prefer to follow orders, but in my own way. Is there a purpose to this questioning Ma'am?"

"Captain Janeway is absolutely correct. You are the most remarkable individual I've met!" She laughed, avoiding the question. "The Captain also said you are a musician and singer, could you be persuaded to sing and play for us as well?"

"It pleases people to say that I can perform those functions, Your Highness. I can do so if so requested." He admitted

She turned away to talk to the Captain sat on the other side of her. "I compliment you Captain, you have an excellent crew and ship, but I think your Colonel surpasses them all in his modesty over his abilities. I would like to hear him entertain, is that possible?" She asked meekly.

"I'm sure it is possible, your Highness. The Colonel enjoys singing." The Captain assured her, shooting a stern glance at the Colonel.

He caught it and nodded. "At your command, Ma'am." He intoned.

"Tell me Captain, why do you refer to him as the Colonel? You use peoples names at almost every other occasion." The Princess asked quietly as the Colonel got up from his seat.

"I don't know," The Captain admitted thoughtfully. "No other form of address ever seems to fit him somehow."

As people watched the Colonel sing, the Princess carefully pocketed the Colonels glass. Alone of the Voyager's crew, only Seven of Nine, who had been watching the woman intently, noticed. She wondered why a Princess should need to steal a glass, but said nothing.

  


"You have everything prepared?" The Princess Madila demanded of her aide all business again, when they had safely beamed back to their own vessel.

"Yes your Highness. We are receiving mind scans from the transponders and mechanoid programming is progressing." Martha responded quietly. "But I must urge you to reconsider taking the Colonel. He will be highly resistant and the Borg is very close to him. She will be suspicious."

"We can deal with that. Replace the Captain as well." She ordered. "Do any of the wormholes lead where they wish to go?"

"No, your Highness." Admitted Martha.

"Then send them to the Agra. Make sure they think they will be nearly home but not quite. They trust us, so by the time they find out they have gone to the outer reaches of the galaxy it will be too late, it will be easier with a mechanoid Captain. Is there a prediction from insemination yet?"

"A prediction has been made, Your Highness. It is estimated at better than 500 from each Star Fleet male. More than 50% will be male offspring. We have no results for the Colonel as we have no DNA imprints."

"Take this." The Princess ordered, handing over the glass the Colonel had been using. "I do not want him processed until I've finished with him. I wish him to be my personal consort."

"Yes, your Highness!" Martha sighed.

"We shall carry out the exchange tomorrow when they visit Valoria. The Queen will appreciate the visitors." The Princess decided. "Ensure the relevant invitations are made."

"Your Highness." The aide bowed low before her mistress.

  


"Thank heaven that is over." The Colonel exclaimed, ripping the stock of his jacket from his neck. "This thing gets tighter every time I wear it. I must be putting on weight." He complained.

"Dearest Miss Nine, will you still love me when I'm fat and bald?" He teased her.

"You will never be fat. And I believe you enjoy wearing dress uniform." She assured him. 

"The Princess stole a glass from the table, whilst you were entertaining." She commented, preparing for bed.

"So?" The Colonel replied indifferently. "I nicked a towel from Earth the other week.

"That is because the one you had, had holes in." Seven pointed out calmly. "I imagine a Princess has access to as many glasses as she would require. Why would she require a replicated one from Voyager?"

"Perhaps she's a kleptomaniac?" The Colonel parried. "Royalty have at least as many faults as us peasants."

"May we retire now?" He asked hopefully. "I promise I won't wake you up in the middle of the night with my bad dreams?"

"That will be acceptable." She agreed, laying herself on their bed. The actions of the princess still troubled her.

"She is very beautiful." She commented as he lay beside her.

"Very." The Colonel agreed amiably. "Also charming, rich, powerful and as you've pointed out a thief. But she is not Seven of Nine, so it doesn't worry me." He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her closer, kissing her forehead tenderly.

"That is an acceptable response." She agreed, responding to his kiss by snuggling closer and gently moving his hands to more strategic points.

They settled to sleep.

  


"You must have done something right last night Colonel." The Captain announced happily the next morning in the staff conference. "You've been invited to meet Queen Dessira this morning, along with Chakotay, Tom, Harry and myself."

"Can't I join the sick parade?" The Colonel asked despondently.

"No, you may not." She retorted. "You're our ace in the hole here. The Princess was absolutely thrilled with you yesterday, and loved the uniform. You're supposed to be a diplomat now, so this is as good an opportunity as any to learn how to be one."

"I could lend the uniform to the Commander or Ensign Carver?" The Colonel volunteered. "Admittedly it will need a tuck or two, but nobody would know the difference."

She glared at him. "I fail to see a reason for your reticence!" She informed him coldly. "You are going and you will smile, talk politely and all the other things you do so well. Seven will still be here when you get back."

"Ma'am." He replied meekly, the rest of the meeting melting in fits of giggles at the Colonel's discomfort.

She turned her attention to Tuvok. "They will transmit coordinates for the wormhole that they've identified when we are in orbit. Arrange a class five probe to check it out. I'm sure it will be everything they claim, but we can do without nasty surprises." She commanded.

"Agreed Captain." Came Tuvoks calm reply.

Seven of Nine and B'Elanna both joined the party in the transporter room for their departure. The Colonel, shrewd as always, stepped forward and held Seven tightly and kissed her lips. "There are enough of us, I won't fall victim to the spider woman." He whispered in her ear.

B'Elanna watched them carefully, then stepped towards Tom Paris. "Don't you dare get carried away with those bitches, or I won't speak to you again!" She hissed. 

She kissed him quickly, then stepped back in embarrassment at the chuckles of mirth from the others. Seven of Nine noted the deep blush that flushed Lieutenant Paris's boyish features, with some interest. 

As did the Captain. 'Is Seven teaching us about humanity now?' She thought in wonderment.

Seven of Nine watched the party dissolve with some trepidation. She was almost certain that the Colonel wouldn't be tempted by the fabulous beauty of the Valorians, but it had not stopped her feeling a little put out by the Captain insisting he joined her on the away mission. Or the flash of irrational jealousy that had flitted through her mind that he might be receiving the affections of one of the beautiful women on the planet and might even enjoy it. Jealousy was another emotion that was new to her, one that she didn't like, so she determinedly put it out of her mind. She determined that he would remember his love when he returned, just to be sure.

  


They were met by the Princess Madila, her aide and a small party of Valorians at the landing point that had been identified for them.

"Welcome to Valoria." Announced the Princess in her familiar singsong voice. She took hold of the Colonel's arm, to his obvious embarrassment. "My mother will give you an audience in a few hours. But first you must see some of our city. It is beautiful isn't it?"

The landing party looked around them. The Park in which they had materialised was full of flowering bushes and trees. It was surrounded by light and airy two storey buildings.

"It is quite attractive. Don't you think, Colonel?" The Captain agreed, extraditing the tall soldier from his predicament.

"There is a pleasing simplicity." He agreed guardedly. She glared at him in warning, the Princess managed to ignore his coolness.

A young woman approached them. "Your Highness, your presence is requested in the developing rooms." She announced bowing before her.

The Princess nodded. "Martha will show you a little of our city. For now I must leave you." She claimed cheerfully.

"If you will follow us." Martha began.

"Excuse me, Ma'am." The Colonel announced. "I can't help thinking this is a perfect place for children? Why aren't there any?"

"This is the Palace Garden." He was informed gently. "There are no juniors here. If you wish I may be able to show you an educational establishment?"

"Thank you, Ma'am. It may awaken memories." He agreed, effecting an amount of enthusiasm.

With the exception of the Colonel the party enjoyed the tour. It seemed, to the Captain, that the Colonel was actively trying to drop from the group as they were escorted around. But each time he managed to fall a few paces back from the crowd, two of their escorts fell in beside him.

"What are you up to Colonel? You're embarrassing us!" She hissed in his ear after one of his attempts.

"I'm sorry, Ma'am. But I keep getting the feeling something is not quite as it seems. It worries me and when I get worried I'm inclined to look for reasons." He whispered back.

"Like what?"

"Like there are no children below the age of 16?" He suggested. "Surely for a capital city their must be some babies, even if they are all girls?"

"That's their problem!" The Captain hissed in anger. "It won't affect us!"

"Probably not." He admitted, but the thought continued to trouble him.

The queen herself was regal enough to impress even the cynical Colonel. She was about sixty the Captain reckoned, about her height, and robed in an elegant sari, her greying hair neatly platted and bunned, it seemed to form the anchor for the shimmering Tiara that was also perched precisely upon her head.

"Welcome to Valoria, Captain Janeway." She announced warmly. "It is always an honour to meet new races." 

"My daughter has told me a lot about you and the person you refer to as the Colonel. I think she has taken a liking for him." She confided with a weak smile. "We can't persuade you to leave him behind?"

"I'm afraid not, Your Majesty." The Captain answered with a smile. "He's a valuable member of my crew, I wouldn't like to be without him. Besides one of my crew is already totally devoted to him and him to her."

"I quite understand." The Queen agreed. "Poor Madila, she has the free choice of all the men on Valoria, yet she falls for an outlander."

"It happens, Your Majesty." The Captain sympathised with feeling.

"How long will it take you to get home from here?" The Queen asked, suddenly changing the subject.

"Well the information that your scientists have provided suggest we will be less than a hundred light years from our quadrant." The Captain considered, struggling to catch up with the conversation. 

"Provided nothing goes wrong, then about three months, Your Majesty." She claimed, finishing her mental arithmetic.

"I am very pleased for you and your crew." Queen Dessira congratulated her. 

"Now if you will excuse me. I'm afraid I'm not as strong as I used to be and tire easily. Please accept our hospitality. I wish you a good voyage Captain." Queen Dessira excused herself and left.

The party from Voyager prepared for departure some 50 minutes later. "Away Team to Voyager. Five to beam up." The Captain commanded.

They felt the familiar fuzzy feeling of the transporter beam dematerializing then rematerialising them.

Five figures stepped off the transporter pad.

"Okay people. We're on our way home. Let's go." Announced the Captain with enthusiasm. "Tuvok get us underway. Warp 5."

"Captain." The Vulcan replied calmly.

Voyager broke orbit and headed into space.

"We will receive telemetry from the probe in about two days." Tuvok informed her. "Our journey will be approximately five."

"I wish the Colonel's assistance in Astro metrics?" Seven of Nine requested of the Captain. "I need to prepare for data capture from the probe."

The Captain nodded quietly.

"You forgot to request permission to step on the ship." Seven commented, placing her arms around her beau and kissing him tenderly and frequently, after they arrived in Astro metrics

"Pardon?" He queried.

"You always request permission to board the ship. That is the regulation to which you comply." She insisted. "You omitted the action, as you did on the Bridge."

"Oh that!" He commented in surprise. "I'm satisfied that I am part of the ship." The reply was smooth and even.

"We will complete our preparations in approximately two hours. After which you will escort me to Holodeck 2. I wish to experience a recreational programme with you." She announced quietly.

"Okay, Seven." He agreed enthusiastically.

She looked at him sharply. He had never been so informal on duty before, even with her. It was puzzling and out of character.

  


"Excuse me, Captain, for pointing out the obvious." The Colonel commented mildly. "But this doesn't look very much like the ship." He finished, looking around at the steel walls that surrounded them.

"I agree!" The Captain snapped. "Janeway to Voyager. What happened?"

There was no reply. Chakotay tested his, with similar response. She looked at him sharply.

"Okay Colonel. This is your nightmare! What happens now?" She asked heavily.

"I haven't a clue!" He admitted candidly. "I'm sure we will find out soon enough though." He settled on the floor to wait.

"You're taking this very calmly?" Chakotay challenged him, as he, Kim and Paris started to search for a way out.

"On the contrary Commander. I am decidedly pissed and I have a desire to kill somebody before the days out." The Colonel admitted. "But we have been well and truly 'suckered', we can't contact the ship and we appear to be in a cell without a door. Running around, as my beloved Miss Nine would say, is 'inefficient'. So for the time being, I'll wait for the half chance."

They all sank to the floor around the Colonel.

"You were right to be suspicious." The Captain admitted quietly. "When will I learn your senses are as effective as any of the ships sensors?"

"Probably the same day that I actually believe the sensors instead." The Colonel suggested. "Unfortunately my senses don't actually tell me what is wrong, so we may still have fallen into this trap." He consoled.

  


"The exchange was successful, Your Highness." Martha intoned calmly. "The prisoners are in the underground holding cell. Voyager is underway, they do not suspect the mechanoids and we have taken control of their probe. We will send encouraging information at the appropriate time."

"Good." Agreed Princess Madila. "I wish the Colonel to be in my rooms tonight."

"Your Highness. He must be prepared!" Exclaimed Martha in exasperation. "He will be too resistive!"

"In loyalty to a Borg?" The Princess snapped. "I can persuade him better than that creature! Am I not more attractive than she?" She blasted.

"Yes, your Highness." Martha sighed in resignation, she suspected that beauty alone may not be a totally effective key with this human.

  


The captives stood back in alarm as the Colonel was dematerialized from their midst some two hours later.

"Why the Colonel?" Captain Janeway screamed at the blank walls surrounding them.

She received no reply, though a container of food and water was beamed into his place.

"At least they don't want us to die." Chakotay pointed out, examining the food stuff. "In fact I'd say they definitely want us to live considering this food!" 

"You've never heard of the condemned mans last meal." The Captain responded harshly.

"Maybe." He admitted quietly. 

He had found it difficult to assume the Colonel's calm acceptance of their situation, in fact it had quite irked him. But after examining the walls and floor in infinite detail, he had to admit the Colonel had been right about the possibilities of escape. It was not impossible therefore he might be right about anything else that he might offer as advice. 

A sentiment he offered to the Captain, along with a plate of what looked like shell fish.

"I suspect the Colonel is in more danger than we are." The Captain responded, taking a couple of the delicacies from the plate. "I think the Princess has had something to do with his departure. But I wish I knew what she wanted from him?"

  


The Colonel, was wondering much the same thing. He found himself sitting on a luxurious couch in an even more luxurious room. Quietly he stood and prowled the room. He examined the drapes, rich and lovingly embroidered taffeta, but not a hiding place. The window was guarded by a strong force field, with no visible controls. Of the three doors, one led into a washroom, another into a luxuriously appointed bedroom. The third was locked, he suspected that there were probably a goodly number of guards outside. For the time being he gave up and examined the contents of the shelves, picking up and examining closely the fine jewellery and ornaments.

"You like my ornament's Colonel?" The Princesses voice tinkled at him from the direction of the door.

"Some of them look as though they've been produced by an average blacksmith or a very poor silversmith, you Highness." He said without looking around. "But this one is exquisite. I suspect it doesn't belong here?" He picked up a jewelled metal flower, like a rose, it was complete to every detail.

"Why do you say that?" She demanded.

"Because it is very dainty, it belongs to a dainty lady. Despite the deception, you're not dainty, your Highness." He replied calmly. "Why have you taken me and my friends? Why am I here?"

"It was necessary. Our race cannot produce male offspring. The male crew members we brought here will produce many male offspring."

"And the Captain? Or are you having her put to death whilst we speak?"

"The mechanoids we placed on your ship may not be perfect. A mechanoid Captain will cause additional confusion, until it's too late."

I see, he responded. And the Captain?

We will not harm her.

"But will remain a prisoner, I'd choose execution, he responded. "And I don't suppose Voyager is actually going anywhere near Earth or the Alpha Quadrant either is it?" 

He continued without waiting for her response. "There used to be a name for people like you on my planet. Sirens, beautiful women that enticed sailors with whispers of treasure, then wrecked and killed them. When are you going to put me on your slab for extraction?"

"It pleases me not to." She assured him. "I will take you for my own."

"You and whose army, Ma'am?" He snapped. "I was married once and it took a company of very tough soldiers to get me to the church and I was not all together unhappy at the outcome. I warn you I'm not going to roll on my back and let you get on with it!"

"I can be very persuasive." She said sliding up behind him and placing her arms around him and nuzzling his neck softly.

He pried them away, feeling an unwanted desire form. "I'm sure you can, your Highness. You might even get a chance of what you want, if you have the patience. But it will only be one chance, I've sworn my honour to another."

"You swore to serve a Borg. A being without emotions of it's own. How can you love a machine? She will be well taken by the mechanoid Colonel and won't know the difference." She claimed with scorn.

"I however can give you every thing you ever wanted, power, riches, love, children." She claimed regaining her gentle voice and approaching him again, arms open.

He deliberately turned his back to her. "You've missed every detail of what Captain Janeway told you about me," He hissed.

"I don't want power. I've given everything I've ever had away and would do it again. As for love Miss Nine has learnt more about it than you ever will. Children? What Children? You don't know what they are either, do you?" He snapped turning back to her in anger. "We were taken to see one of your educational institutions. Do you know what I saw there? I'll tell you shall I? Rows and rows of youngsters attached to machines. The headmistress told me they spend more than ten hours a day like that! That's not education it's brainwashing! Children are young bundles of fun and mischief, that's the way they learn to be human. Not the way those sad little things I saw in your college today were. I had a better childhood than they've got. The youngsters here don't have a childhood!"

"Now if you don't mind, your Highness. I think I'd like to return to my cell, before I really get cross and the company is better!" He announced stiffly, marching to the door.

She stamped her foot in fury. "I will not be spurned." She screamed. "You will be my consort!"

"Willingly, not in a month of Sundays, your Highness." He bowed to her and opened the door to find Martha and six armed female guards waiting.

"Excuse me, Ma'am?" He asked mildly. "But could you direct me back to my rooms, the Princess and I have completed our conversation. From this point it can only get physical."

Martha looked to her Princess for guidance. She nodded distractedly, so she led the Colonel away.

"Why does your race have so few males, Ma'am?" He asked her quietly as they walked.

"Two hundred cycles ago men controlled our lives. They were harsh and violent, then there was a war with another race, the Tigra's, it was a terrible war, it lasted many years and thousands died." She told him. "In the end they used bigeneric weapons. Almost all our men were rendered impotent, those that weren't we found incapable of producing male offspring. The Tigrans then attempted an invasion and took many women captives, until we beat them off. They still mount raiding parties from time to time, but we usually manage to defeat them and take our own prisoners, they are not perfect."

The Colonel laughed, it was a dry and unpleasant laugh. "The more advanced races become the more stupid they are." He stated. "Both of you deserve to die out! The thing about war is that they are a natural, if illogical event and everybody loses, but they don't last in the great scheme of things. Sooner or later they end and everybody goes back to what they were before. I have some sympathy with your plight, but not to the extent of condoning your survival plans." 

"You know, a place like this inhabited by beautiful young women, ought to be Nervana for red bloodied males, even I could be tempted. Unfortunately your way of collecting for the cause is too extreme. Perhaps you should try and find another way of rebuilding your race, a more natural way, that doesn't make you look like a galactic enemy of everybody."

He was silent for the rest of their walk through the Palace grounds until they entered a low building near the centre.

"Would this be your insemination chamber?" He asked, looking at the various couches.

"Not quite." Martha confided. "We extract here and develop the foetuses in generation tanks."

"If you can grow children like tomatoes, why don't you use genetics to rebuild your race?" The Colonel asked in bewilderment.

"We do not have the technology. We are afraid if we use our men, they will be violent." Martha claimed.

"Not nearly as violent as I'm likely to be with your Princess!" The Colonel snorted in amusement. 

"If your Princess is still intent in keeping me. Persuade her to let my friends and Voyager go?" He suggested. "It won't make me responsive overnight, but it might be a gesture in the right direction. To gain my love she will have to earn it properly!"

"Is this where I join my friends?" He asked turning to examine a new device as they entered another smaller room. He stumbled as he did so, knocking over an escort.

"I'm most terribly sorry my dear! Not hurt in anyway are you?" He asked gently, bending to help her up. As he did so his hand slipped around her waist, sliding out what he assumed was a weapon, then quietly palming it into his pocket as she stood.

"You are correct, Colonel." Martha announced. "If you would care to stand in the circle, you may rejoin your friends."

"Thank you, Ma'am."

He was beamed away safely.

  


Seven of Nine's Holdeck simulation proved to be a dance hall. A twenty piece orchestra played a waltz in a corner, tables spread around the edges of the room, leaving a large circle in the centre as a dance floor. Several waiters were plying drinks from a bar situated in another corner.

"This is an acceptable simulation of 'Brains'?" She asked nervously.

"I'm sure it is." The Colonel admitted. "Why did you create it?"

"The Doctor advised me that social interactions are assisted by close contact. I wish to be held by you, so that we may demonstrate our love." She said quickly. A strange feeling was scratching at her mind, he wasn't responding the way she expected, she pushed it away. Then took him in her arms, pulling the slightly resistive man towards her and kissing him with all the passion she could muster. Gently her hand crept up his back to his neck, to subconsciously toy with the dead implant that had given her such intimacy with the man. It didn't find it.

Shocked she stepped backwards, stumbling into a table.

"You are an impostor!" She shouted, her hand reaching for the communicator on her left breast.

He shot her, without waiting, with a phasor. She looked at him accusingly as she crashed over the table behind her, then to the deck.

The Colonel hit his own communicator. "Captain to Holodeck 2." He called.

She arrived inside ten minutes. 

"What happened?" She demanded, seeing the unconscious blonde sprawled across the floor.

"She knows about me." He replied stiffly. "I had to stop her."

"You were defective." The Captain complained. "Take her to her quarters, then lock the door. She must not be allowed to contact the crew."

The Colonel nodded and picked up the unconscious woman in one arm.

"Carry her properly, you are supposed to love her!" The Captain ordered. "If asked, she passed out. That will be an acceptable answer. Then look after her."

The Colonel nodded and walked out the room, carrying her in both arms.

  


"You have a report, Colonel?" The Captain asked anxiously when he rematerialised.

He nodded. "Is there something left to drink?" He asked. "I'm parched."

They gave him a glass of the wine they had been drinking. He swallowed it in one shot and held it out for a refill.

"Thank you. I beg your forgiveness, Ma'am." He said at last after draining the second glass.

She looked at him quizzically.

"I have made an impression on the Princess as ordered, but not a good one I'm afraid. I told her what I thought of her and her people." He apologised.

"I'm sure you acted correctly." The Captain assured him. "Now what happened? Where is Voyager?"

He explained the events of his two hours away from the cell.

"So basically we are in the pooh, Ma'am." He commented at length.

"Is there any good news? Or have you a plan?" She asked quietly.

"Nothing that could be run up a flag pole, Ma'am." He responded diffidently. "I believe the Princess may try to invite me to her parlour again, but I expect some sort of demonstration from her first. I nicked this as well." He retrieved the weapon he had pickpocketed earlier from his own pocket. "I think it may be more suitable for somebody else to use."

"As for a plan, the best I can offer at present is whoever goes next, takes this toy and attempts to take control of the transporter room. If you start shooting first and don't stop until everybody is down then you may have time to work out how to operate their controls. After that we will have to wing it."

"We're not the trained killer you are." The Captain pointed out. "Why should we be more able to take the control room than you? Why didn't you take it when you had the chance?"

She took the weapon from him and examined it. It was broadly rectangular with a rectangular hole through which the fingers could pass. Two short barrels presented themselves from a long edge. A stun gun of some sort, she guessed.

"I'm sorry, Ma'am, I'm not a killer, I kill those known to be a threat to life because I'm a soldier and that is what a soldier does, but I'm not an assassin, unless they start shooting I'm not sure I could. Shooting women out of hand is not something I'm good at. And I doubt I could work out how to use the Control Panel," He apologised. 

The Captain nodded, "More of your regulations?" She queried calmly.

"Not exactly, Ma'am. It's what I was taught. I promise I'll spill as much blood as you want, when they become hostile, and I won't need that toy." He assured her. "Besides they think I'm a killer as well so they were prepared for me."

She pocketed the weapon, "I'll deal with it, if I get the opportunity." She agreed. "But more weapons would be helpful if you can arrange them?"

"Ma'am."

  


Seven of Nine awoke slowly to find herself in her quarters and a tall figure sat on a chair at the opposite side of the room. Her head and chest ached from the after effects of the phasors stun beam, it left her groggy and unable to properly recall the events that had led her back to her quarters.

"What happened?" She queried.

The figure got up and moved towards her. "You had a nasty turn and collapsed over some furniture." Said a familiar voice. "How do you feel?"

"I am damaged. I must regenerate."

"There will be plenty of time for that." The figure suggested, kneeling beside her and stroking her gently. "Just rest for a while?"

She started to relax as the gentle caresses tingled her body. Suddenly noticed the chronometer on the wall, it showed she had been unconscious for nearly twenty hours. She sprang out of the bed and staggered as the room swam around her. 

"I must regenerate. I will need to assimilate data from the probe when it arrives." She insisted, "You may accompany me." She offered.

"That will be acceptable." The Colonel agreed.

Together they left the room for Cargo Bay 2 and Seven of Nine's alcove. Gently he helped her to stand in the booth, then activate it.

Satisfied that she was fully in the influence of the machine, he made some modifications to the computer terminal and hit his communicator. "Colonel to Captain. She has forgotten the event. She is no longer a threat."

  


The Captain and her team spent a long and uncomfortable day in their cell awaiting the next event. The Colonel had predicted a demonstration of some sort. But apart from another trolley of food and drink, little else broke the monotony of their captivity. They had unconsciously separated themselves from the others to be in their separate space to contemplate their fates.

Amidst the boredom Tom Paris approached the Colonel.

"Why did B'Elanna say what she did when we left the ship?" He asked quietly.

"Perhaps Lieutenant Torres thinks that intelligent and attractive isn't enough compared to the beauty of these spider women?" The Colonel suggested mildly. "Face it Lieutenant, she loves you and you are as feckless as any hot shot pilot or sailor I've ever known. Her love isn't as wickedly open as Miss Nine's actions seem to be, thankfully, but it could be as strong. Maybe it is time you demonstrated some genuine loyalty to her? Or let her down very gently?"

"You're suggesting I should marry B'Elanna?" Paris asked in mildly surprise.

"I'm not suggesting anything of the sort!" The Colonel responded sharply. "All I'm suggesting is that you are at a point where a display of loyalty would be appropriate, if you do not wish your relationship to end. Love isn't just sharing a bed for a night's passion. How you do it is entirely up to you."

Tom Paris considered the comment for a moment, then asked. "What would you suggest?"

The Colonel sighed. "I am having the same problem with Miss Nine." He admitted. "The only advice I can offer is it ought to be an expression from inside you, which she can keep, appreciate and beat you with when you forget."

The Captain watched Tom engage in conversation and half-overheard what was being said. It prompted her to move to Chakotay.

The ship is becoming something of a love boat." She commented quietly. "We have Tom and B'Elanna, Winston and Kala, Seven and the Colonel and several others, I think, I'm getting quite jealous!"

"You always said that the crew would pair up on their own, Kathryn." Chakotay reminded her. "They're doing just that. You have also made it clear it is not something that you could allow to happen to yourself."

"I know." She admitted. "But when I look at the Colonel, the way he has changed for Seven, yet remains the same. I wonder whether that was the right decision? Am I becoming a wizened old maid without cause?"

"The Colonel and Seven are a very special case." Chakotay pointed out. "They were both alone and in a different world to what they knew. I think it was natural that they should find consolation in each other."

"Besides, you created that match!" He added lightly.

The Captain laughed. "I suppose I went a little way to help it develop." She admitted modestly. "I shall have to find the order of service when we return to the ship. I'm going to need it!"

"You know the Colonel had a licence to conduct acts of worship?" Chakotay asked. "You might not have to perform the ceremony if it proves too difficult?"

The Captain dematerialized before she could reply.

She found herself in the same room as the Colonel had arrived in the day before. This time however the Princess was already in attendance. She was lounging on one of the room's settee's.

"Please Kathryn, sit down. Can I get you a drink?" The Princess asked quietly.

"Why am I here?" The Captain asked suspiciously, ignoring protocols, sitting on the edge of a settee and ignoring the offer.

"I wish to discuss the Colonel with you." The Princess replied.

She rang a bell and a handmaid appeared. "A drink for the Captain." The Princess commanded.

The handmaid bowed and left the room, to return a few minutes later with a bottle and glasses. She poured and handed a brimming glass to the Captain. She took it and tasted it carefully. 

"Not bad." She admitted. "What do you want to know about the Colonel?"

"How I can make him accept me in place of the Borg."

"You don't!" The Captain replied bluntly.

"Explain?" The question was sharp.

"His life is littered with women who have wanted to take him for their own. Seven of Nine is only the second to have got near him on her own. You haven't got the patience. He has given his word to her, I can't see any circumstance, short of her decision, that would make him break it and that won't happen," She claimed pointedly.

"Martha suggested that letting you and your ship go would help?" The Princess offered.

"It might." The Captain admitted. "But that assumes I would be prepared to just leave him here and I'm not, unless he proves it was of his own free will."

"You will risk the lives of your crew to rescue one man?" The Princess exclaimed in astonishment.

"He has done it for us and he belongs with Seven of Nine, not here!"

"You may leave me." The Princess commanded, she was containing her anger with an effort. "I will decide what to do with you and him." Again she rang her bell for her handmaids.

The Captain stood and bowed to her host. "Your Highness." She intoned.

"If you love him, then the best thing you could do is, let him go back to whom he loves." The Captain suggested quietly, walking to the door to meet her escort.

She didn't remember the gun in her pocket until she was being escorted through the gardens. She contemplated trying to take out her four woman escorts and gripped it firmly. Realising that success was unlikely at that point, she allowed herself to relax again. There would be a better opportunity she consoled herself.

The opportunity came very shortly afterwards. Not expecting a problem from their captive, two of her guards left as she was shown into the transporter room. The two remaining guards allowed their attention to focus on the console. Quietly she stepped out of the transporter circle and pulled out the weapon, they didn't notice.

Taking a deep breath to steady her nerves, she fired. The first slumped to the floor. The second looked at her fallen partner in surprise, the delay in her response gave the Captain plenty of time to shoot again, except she didn't.

"Bring my people back up." She demanded, threatening the woman with her weapon.

The woman looked at her calmly, without moving. The Captain stepped towards her, moving around the console, threatening with her weapon, still she didn't move. 

"Do it!" She demanded again.

Again there was no movement. Something wasn't quite right, the Captain conceded, what was it the Colonel preached to the Dog Watch, 'Look for the smallest detail, a blink, a twitch anything that meant something was about to happen'. The guard's eyes widened, watching as closely as she was she saw it and threw herself at the ground, without waiting, firing at the guard as she did so. She slumped to the ground, the Captain rolled to see the two missing guards enter the room, their weapons drawn. One was firing at where she had been not a second before. She fired back, taking out both in rapid succession.

"He's right!" She muttered in astonishment and getting up, "The smallest details are more important than the obvious. I'd never have been able to take those two out if I'd not seen her see them come in." She congratulated herself.

Quickly she stepped to the door and peered around it, examining the corridor. It was empty. Satisfied she stepped back to the control console and examined it. Tentatively she prodded a couple of buttons and a screen came alive, showing the activities of her crew in the cell. Adjustments of some more controls allowed her to target them all, then she activated the system. A brief delay ensued in which she managed to worry that the destination was still set for the Princesses quarters. She sighed with relief as her people did materialise in the room with her.

"Quite impressive. I'll be out of a job soon." The Colonel complemented her, then bent to examine the casualties. "I think it would be a good idea to get rid of them for a while though."

Gently he picked up the fallen guards and placed them in the transporter circle. "If you would be so good, Ma'am?" He asked, "They'll be safer in the cell."

She smiled weakly at him, doing as he bid. The shock of initiating hostilities at such close quarters hit her and she sank to the floor.

Seeing her slump he responded quickly, gently holding her in his arms. "Hurts doesn't it?" He offered gently. "They will be fine in a couple of hours, a little sore but alive, you haven't killed anybody. But you've done what you needed to do and gone the first step to saving our lives. You've got a lot more to do though, we aren't out the woods with your crew here, then we've your ship to deal with, so hang on." He whispered encouragement to her as the rest kept watch on the corridor.

Louder he asked the room in general. "Okay gentlemen, we aren't free yet, we've simply changed cells. Suggestions on how we can find a way out, like where there is a space port or a ship would be appreciated? Or even a way to contact Voyager?"

"Otherwise we will have to wait for dark and deal with anybody else that turns up."

  


Seven of Nine awoke from her regeneration with a start, something was still wrong and the machine's cycle had not completed properly. Uncertainly she looked around to find that she was alone. The Colonel was nowhere to be seen. In circumstances where she had been damaged before he had sat with her until the cycle had completed. 

She knew she had been damaged. Her aching chest told her so. She stepped towards her console and tried to activate it. It proved to have been disabled. She tried the door. It was locked. Alarmed, she pondered the situation for a few minutes, then came to a decision. She opened an inspection hatch in the wall and moved data cards around, then stepped back to her console. It shimmered into life and she enabled her cranial log files and started to read, the Borg codes making perfect sense to her. Even though she had been physically unconscious, the implants had still recorded data and supplied it to the booth as she regenerated. After twenty minutes she found the answers she sought, the Colonel was an impostor, as was the Captain and she had been struck by a phasor beam. She wondered how many of the rest of the Away Team had been replaced. Quick reprogramming of the console and some more card swapping at the access panel allowed her to examine the transporter's system log. There had been another influence involved in the transporter, it had been overcome, so there was nothing concrete. She stood back and contemplated the data. 

The suspicion formed in her mind that most of the crew on the bridge had been replaced. She considered approaching Tuvok with her information, then dismissed it. It would be difficult to get to him unnoticed and with his loyalty to the Captain it would be difficult to get him to accept the flimsy computer evidence, even with the bruising she could feel in her chest. That suggested the Doctor, perhaps he could gain the evidence she needed. 

She checked the ship's chronometer. The probe's data would be returning within the hour. She had no doubt now that the data would be encouraging, showing everything they wanted to see. The Captain would increase speed to get there quicker. That had to be stopped. The only person she was close enough to talk to that could stop it happening was B'Elanna Torres.

She reached for her communicator, to find it missing. That would mean a ship wide broadcast she realised, the bridge would hear it.

There was also the problem of the fate of the Away Team to consider. That she reflected was less of the problem, the Captain was there and had the Colonel to protect her.

From a container she removed a phasor rifle then she opened another hatch in the bay's wall and crawled through into a crawl way. This she followed for a few yards until she met a ladder and began to climb. Thirty minutes later she arrived at another hatch. Carefully she listened for any sound, then even more carefully opened it. There was nobody there. Gratefully she stepped out into the Sick Bay.

"Computer, activate Emergency Medical Hologram." She ordered.

"Please state the nature of the Medical Emergency." Announced the Doctor, materialising in the centre of the room.

"Intruders have taken control of the ship and I have been damaged." Seven replied instantly.

"How? Why are there are no security alerts?"

"The Captain, Colonel and the Bridge crew have been replaced." She replied calmly.

"Nonsense, I carried out medical scans on them when they returned." The Doctor protested.

"Your scans were in error." Seven assured him. "I know the Colonel is not who he claims, his attitude is different, he no longer has the implant and he fired at me with a phasor."

"It is time that man changed his attitude, but perhaps your right, I can't see him shooting you with anything." He admitted. "But what about the Captain?"

The Colonel called her after shooting me, she had him take me to quarters until recovered then secured in Cargo Bay 2. They tried to tamper with my memory core. They failed." Seven of Nine claimed.

"So what do you want to do?" The Doctor asked quietly.

"Information from the probe will be received soon. I must prevent them acting upon it. It will be false. I will need the assistance of Lieutenant Torres."

"I'll call her." said the Doctor, "Doctor to B'Elanna Torres!"

"Torres here, I'm busy getting the ship ready for the worm hole, can it wait?"

"I have a patient and a system failure. I need assistance." It wasn't a complete lie he told himself.

"I'll be right up." Torres sounded annoyed.

"While we are waiting, I'll treat your injuries." Suggested the Doctor. "After all I'm a doctor. Not a special agent."

"That is acceptable." Seven agreed.

"Where's the emergency?" Torres asked entering the bay at speed. "Hello Seven, what have you done to yourself?"

"I was shot, by the Colonel, with a phasor." Seven responded.

"You made a mistake, surely. He couldn't shoot you no matter what happened." Exclaimed Torres in shock.

"He is an impostor, as are the Captain and the rest of the landing party." Claimed Seven of Nine. "The Valorians have replaced them."

"We must prevent the Captain getting the ship to the wormhole. It will be a trap. You must disable the warp drive." Seven continued.

"The Colonel is in Engineering at the moment, being 'useful'." Torres thought aloud. "I can fuse the EPS manifolds easily enough, but I will have to deal with him first. Can we get Tuvok involved? He wasn't a member of the Away Team."

"The Captain would suspicious if we attempted a security alert, it would put him in danger. However, I may be able to contact him through the console." Said Seven in thought. She moved to the Sick Bay medical console and set to work.

  


In the absence of better ideas but the assistance of nightfall the Away Team elected to explore the palace grounds. For over an hour they had sat uncomfortably in the building that housed the transporter, nervously watching for relief guards to appear. They hadn't, obviously, the Captain had decided, they didn't think it necessary to guard anything if the prisoners were safely tucked away. They had seen their erstwhile guards recover in the cell and look around in alarm when they had discovered where they were, then they had huddled up together for company. Out of compassion the Captain had ordered that the trolley of food and drink that had been waiting in a side room should be beamed to their captives, though they didn't appear to be totally enamoured with its content.

The Colonel led them. Silently he flitted through the shadows, always keeping out the light and always a full ten yards ahead, signalling them to follow as he found suitable cover. In this way they had skirted the Palace Gardens until they came to a force field fence. Here he called the Captain over.

"What do you think they use for rocket fuel to launch their ships, Ma'am?" He asked in a hushed whisper.

"I don't know, why?" She whispered in genuine surprise.

"Could it smell like the shuttles? Sort of a blustery day at the sea side?" He asked.

"I hadn't realised the shuttles smelt of anything." The Captain admitted. "But their propulsion systems are similar so it is possible. Why?"

"Can't you smell it? A taint of the sea on the rocks, Ozone and salt?"

She tried a deep breath, a faint smell did hit her nostrils, but she couldn't place it. "I can smell something," She admitted, "But I can't place it."

"May we assume I'm right?" He whispered. "If so we need to get past this fence. Can you disable it please, Ma'am?"

Without replying she examined a fence post, then the one next to it, then returned to the Colonel. "No, I can't. There are no controls on the post." She whispered.

"Never mind. We'll have to get dirty. There is a stream running through the garden. It must pass under the fence somewhere near here. I'll see if it's grated." He flitted away into the gardens.

The Captain returned to her team. "The Colonel thinks we need to get through the fence. He thinks he can smell shuttles." She whispered.

"Shuttles don't smell of anything." Paris protested in a whisper.

"He says they do. I'm not going to argue with him." The Captain pointed out. "He's in the element where he performs best."

The Colonel found the stream quickly and started to follow it, but was brought up short by the sound of voices. Quickly he slid into the water and pressed himself into the mud. The voices came nearer, "The Princess says we may begin extraction tomorrow." It was Martha's voice. "Are we ready to send probe telemetry?"

"Yes Ma'am."

"It seems a shame, there are many more males on the ship that would have proved useful." The voices faded away until he felt safe to lift his head and look around again. Seeing no further danger he got up and continued to follow the stream to a culvert. After another furtive look around he dived in to the hole and elbow crawled along it. It was a close fit, he could feel the water damming up behind him, but there was no other restriction and he came out in the open air some 30 yards away and on the outside. Quickly he looked around to get his bearings and sniffed the night air. He was a good two hundred yards from his friends, but the smell was still there.

Satisfied he dived back in the hole he had just emerged from and returned to his party.

"Okay there is a way out." He announced when he found them again. "But it is wet and muddy and we are about to be discovered. Unless you want to find out how a cow feels I wholeheartedly recommend not being caught."

"We have about 150 yards of open ground to cover. Follow me, but not too closely, keep very low and don't run in a straight line, it will throw your shadow off." He ordered. "Are we ready, let's go?"

He led them at a quick trot to the culvert.

"Everybody through here." He hissed. "When you're out, stay low and in the stream. Use your elbows to pull yourself along. Go!"

He pushed Kim into the hole, followed by Paris then Chakotay, then finally turned to the Captain. She was looking at the small hole in consternation.

"Couldn't you find an easier way?" She complained.

Lights suddenly lit much of the grounds around them.

"No. And no time for dignity Ma'am. I think they know we are missing. This will throw them off the scent for a while." He whispered, bundling her into the hole and rapidly following her, pushing her along.

"You did this for a living?" Paris exclaimed as the Colonel emerged spluttering from the culvert.

"Not in dress uniform and very rarely in clean water." The Colonel admitted solemnly.

"Those look like warehouses." He continued, pointing towards some large buildings. "We'll find somewhere to hole up for a few minutes. Follow me in the same way as before, but stay on the grass, a wet footprint on the tarmac can be seen even in the dark."

Again he led them at a twisting run across the grass towards the buildings he had pointed out. They collapsed gratefully into a shadowed hiding place between a row of bins and a wall.

"How far do you think we are from the Space Port?" The Captain asked, feeling a little winded.

"I suspect we are on the edge of it." Said the Colonel, "The smell I caught can't linger for long so it has to be close. But I'm hoping for something else as well."

"What's that?" She asked guardedly.

"A communications centre. They are going to send information from the probe regarding the hole. It could be our method of contacting the ship. I assume Miss Nine will do the data analysis?"

"What can she do?" Chakotay asked.

"I'd leave that to her. Seven is very resourceful when the need arises." The Captain put in quickly. "The Colonel and I will look for the Communications Centre. You, Tom and Harry, see if you can find a ship to get us off this planet." She commanded. "Lead on Colonel."

In the darkness the Colonel smiled, the Captain was taking command again. "Ma'am!"

He led the team quietly along the side of the warehouse to its front. The Colonel had been right. They were on the edge of the suspected space port. On the far side they could see six dark vessels standing on pads. 

"One of those would be good, Commander?" He suggested. "It looks as though there is a storm gully running within a hundred yards of the nearest one, if they come looking they'll expect you to be skulking around the edges not sat in the middle of the airfield. A possibility of some more holes though." He apologised.

"I suspect that the Comms Centre will be in or under the Control Tower, Ma'am. Do you wish to try for it? If not I'll ensure the tower is put out of action."

"Let's do it." She insisted.

He led her away, back the way they had come, around some more offices and warehouses, suddenly he stopped and dragged the Captain to the ground as the sound of voices approaching.

"The prisoners have escaped. They will probably try to steal a ship, ensure they are guarded. The males are not to be hurt if avoidable."

"Yes Ma'am."

A figure rounded the corner in front of them and walked past them without noticing the couple, thanks to the Colonel's dark uniform in the shadow. Silently he stood and stepped after her, taking her around the waist and placing a large hand across her mouth, then dragged her back into the shadows.

"Now Duck." He started. "It will be difficult for me to kill something as pretty as you, but I'm attached to my wedding tackle and would like to use them with whom I please, so I'm sure I'll get the hang of snapping your dainty neck, if you try to be clever of foolish." He hissed.

"The Captain and I would like to go to your Communications Centre. I'd like you to lead us there, if you please." He let her go and she looked at him in alarm. 

"It is guarded. You won't get in!" She said quietly.

"It's never stopped me before." The Colonel assured her, "Just show us where it is. After all you have the Captain as a prisoner, I'm sure the Princess will be happy about that." He pulled her arm behind her back and pushed her forward.

She led them around the warehouse towards what looked like a bunker. "See there are two guards at the door," she hissed in pain as he tilted the arm up.

"Keep going," He whispered in her ear, "The Captain will accompany you, and she is quite adept with the stunners."

He disappeared into the shadows.

As they approached the guards, they were challenged.

"I have the female Terran." The Captains captive called, in alarm as the Captain dug the stunner into her waist.

The guards approached cautiously. Not cautiously enough as a tall dark figure rose from behind them and crashed their heads together. Not allowing them to fall to the ground he pulled them to the door, and peeped in. The room was empty, so he and the two guards disappeared inside, to be rapidly joined by the Captain and her prisoner.

"Your comms room, Ma'am." The Colonel announced happily.

Quickly Captain Janeway examined the consoles and set to work.

"I'm sorry, my dear, I don't know your name?" The Colonel asked their captive.

"Marie." She said nervously.

"Well Marie, I'd like you to know that a place like this inhabited by beautiful young women, ought to be Nirvana for red bloodied males, even I could be tempted. Unfortunately your way of collecting for the cause is too extreme. Please remind the Princess of that for me, when you see her." He said quietly, then clipped her smartly just below and behind the ear.

He caught her before she fell and laid her gently with the other two.

"Are we ready Ma'am?"

"Just about," She affirmed. "I can't stop the transmissions, but I've managed to link my own message for Seven of Nine into it. I hope your replacement isn't too distracting and she sees it."

"So do I, Ma'am." He agreed, not entirely for the same reasons.

  


Chakotay and his party had no problems getting into the storm ditch the Colonel had pointed out, or following it to the closest point to the ships they had seen earlier. Together they watched the activity around the nearest vessel. They appeared to be preparing it for flight.

They examined their prospective transport with interest as well. It was bigger than their shuttles, they realised. They were long and wide, circular in shape, it made them look lower than they actually were. They tapered smoothly from a wedge-shaped nose to the stern, were they cut off squarely, displaying the drive systems. Two fins stuck out the top forming a vee configuration.

"They look the business." Chakotay commented mildly. "We'll wait for them to finish what they're doing and take it."

They waited for nearly fifteen minutes, before they saw the ground crew move away from the craft.

"Quick, now is our chance," Hissed Chakotay. "Harry takes the one on the left of the ramp. I'll take the one on the right. Tom takes out anybody left inside."

They leapt up and sprinted towards the space ship.

The two guards heard them coming, but responded too late to defend themselves from the stun guns wielded by the Star Fleet officers as they thundered in. Paris leapt up the ramp, not waiting for the other two and inspected the interior. It was small, smaller than it looked outside, it appeared to require a crew of four to operate, though there were also an extra six jump seats arranged in the cabin. There was nobody aboard.

Kim and Chakotay moved the unconscious guards out the way of the craft and followed him into the cabin. Shouts from the buildings alerted them to the fact that their escape had been noted. A body of people could be seen moving towards them.

"Tom!" Shouted Chakotay, "Get us in the air. We're going to have company." He closed the door securely and moved forward to a seat behind Tom Paris.

Tom was examining the controls with an expert eye. It was very different from a shuttle, more like the Colonel's biplane, but much more complicated. It had a control stick in the centre, a lever and twist grip to the left, to control the power he surmised. His feet reached out and felt pedals, rudder controls. Numerous buttons and switches also jutted out the two control levers, he could only guess at their full purpose. He did however find the engine start switches and managed to get the engines running. Again he waited a second or two to see how the instruments reacted before applying more power. The ship shook as he adjusted the controls, finally getting it in the air, it was more responsive than a shuttle he realised, but not as quick.

Kim was also exploring the station that faced him. "This is a tactical station." He announced. "I have control over a complete suite of sensor and weapons systems."

"Good, use them to find the Captain." Ordered Chakotay.

"I've got them Commander. Four hundred metres on the right, they're running this way. They're being chased."

"Tom?"

"I'm moving." Tom Paris announced.

Captain Janeway and the Colonel were crouched in the shadows beside the ports control tower watching figures approaching the ships parked in the middle of the field. They had been there for some ten minutes carefully keeping out of sight. They saw Chakotay and his team assault and take the ship and a strong force approach it Then they saw it take off and hover uncertainly in the air, as though the pilot was trying to work out what to do next. Slowly it turned towards them and started to move towards them.

"That's our bus!" The Colonel announced, "Come on!"

He pulled the Captain to her feet and started to push her forwards at a smart trot. They had barely made a hundred metres before a shout came from behind them.

"Run!" He shouted. 

They both took off like hares and hounds as the first weapons fire scattered around them. 

He heard her grunt and turned to see her slump to the ground. Quickly he stooped and scooped her up and commenced running again.

"Leave me, get to safety!" She whispered.

"Shut up." He panted. 

"The Captains down!" Shouted Kim on the captured fighter. "The Colonel's trying to shoot back, the stunner hasn't the range. He's picked her up." 

The Colonel felt a sharp pain in his leg as he was hit by a stun gun. He crashed to the floor, sending the Captain tumbling from his arms. Groggily he got to his hands and knees, shaking his head at the grogginess, then to his feet and picked her up again and continued to stagger forward, dragging his numbed leg.

"He's fallen. Christ, what does it take to stop him, he's got up again." Kim kept up the commentary as the ship approached.

"Tom, try some of those buttons. See if you can slow their chasers down." Chakotay ordered. "Then bring us down close to them. Harry, get down to the hatch and prepare for covering fire."

The Colonel picked himself up again after another fall and set off again, altering course slightly as he saw their rescue ship come to a hover and start to descend

He could hear Chakotay and Kim shouting encouragement at him as he staggered towards the ship. "Another ten yards and I'll be there!" He said to himself, but his progress was now slow, too slow, the pursuers were less than 50 yards behind him.

Another sharp pain hit him, in the small of the back. He crashed to the floor again, although conscious he was totally paralysed from the waist down.

Chakotay and Kim were with them in a flash, dragging both towards the ship and firing back at the pursuers.

"Tom, get us out of here!" Screamed Chakotay as they finally collapsed into the ships entry way. Weakly he operated the door closing controls, then turned to his fallen comrades. The Captain was dazed, but recovering, the shot that hit her had obviously been from too long a range to do serious damage. The Colonel though was having severe problems breathing, the two wounds he had received were too much for his nervous system and paralysis was overcoming his whole body. He was whispering something, Chakotay leaned further forward. 

"Permission to come aboard, Sir!" He gasped.

He sat back in surprise. "Granted!"

The Colonel's eyes closed and he went still.

  


"The first telemetry from the probe is in Captain." Tuvok announced on the Bridge. "Transferring to Astro metrics for full decoding."

"There is a problem contacting Seven of Nine. She is not responding to the hail." He advised.

"She collapsed on the Holodeck, nothing serious but the Doctor sent her to regenerate." The Captain informed him quietly. "You deal with the data and let her rest properly. Ensign Kim will assist."

"Captain. I will not be as efficient as Seven of Nine." Tuvok pointed out.

"Nor are you as averse to returning to the Alpha Quadrant. I'm sure our Valorian friends would have advised if there was a problem."

Tuvok stepped in the lift with Ensign Kim in tow.

In Astro metrics he opened a console, slightly surprising Ensign Kim didn't. It puzzled him, Ensign Kim as a part designer of the lab knew more about its systems than anybody except Seven of Nine.

The second surprise he received was a second message hidden in with the data from the probe. Curious he decoded that first. It wasn't a data file. It was a text file with the Captains security code addressed to Seven of Nine. Puzzled he read it, not entirely believing its contents.

"Ensign Kim. There is a problem with the decoding of the probe data." He announced. I require assistance."

"What's wrong with it?" Kim asked suspiciously, stepping closer.

"There is a message from the Captain. It says you and the away team are impostors." Tuvok informed him, drawing his phasor and firing.

The mechanoid Kim was faster than the Vulcan. He also pulled his phasor and fired. Both men slumped to the deck.

  


"I am unable to contact Commander Tuvok." Seven of Nine announced from the computer terminal. "He is not at his station on the Bridge."

"Computer, locate Lieutenant Commander Tuvok?" She ordered.

"Lieutenant Commander Tuvok is in the Astro metrics Laboratory."

"I'll go and get him." B'Elanna Torres offered.

"You must gain control of the ship. I will find the Commander." Seven stated.

"Okay. Just don't get yourself hurt again. The Colonel would never forgive you!"

"I will go armed." Seven assured the engineer. "You should also go armed, the Colonel's replica is as quick as the real one." She recommended.

"I'll take care." Torres promised, trotting out the door.

Seven of Nine made her own preparations, carefully programming a site to site transport from the terminal. The transporter signal would be picked up she realised, but it would be safer than walking the corridors and quicker than the Jeffereys tubes.

She beamed into Astro metrics and found Tuvok in a crumpled heap along with Ensign Kim. She examined them both, satisfied that Tuvok was still alive and Kim was not a threat for the moment she turned her attention to the control panels. She quickly found the message from the Captain, it was still on the open terminal that Tuvok was inspecting. She in her turn read the message meant for her, informing her of the Away Teams plight and urging her to take measures to prevent Voyager from arriving at the wormhole. There were no direct instructions she noted, obviously the Colonels influence she conceded.

Next she examined the replicant carefully. After some searching she found a switch on its waist. She pressed it, nothing visibly happened, she hoped it had deactivated the machine permanently.

She considered her next move. Despite her newly found popularity, thanks in a large part to the relationship she had with the popular Colonel, without Tuvok, she doubted that she would be able to control the ships security teams quickly enough to be effective. She took a deep breath and headed for the turbo lift, the shields around the bridge would prevent her using another site to site transport.

As the door opened onto the Bridge the Captain turned to see who had entered. 

"I'm sorry, Captain." Seven announced uncomfortably and fired the rifle. The Captain collapsed. She turned the weapon on the next person to move, Tom Paris. Then dived to the floor and rolled, as Chakotay stood and fired back. Rolling to her knees she fired again, he fell, but she was under fire from the remaining bridge crewman, Ensign Carver. She dropped the rifle.

"Cease fire!" She commanded, "The Captain is an impostor!" She managed to get out before she was in turn stunned to the deck.

"Security to the Bridge, Seven of Nine has attacked the Captain," Carver shouted at his communicator. "Doctor to the Bridge, medical emergency."

  


In Engineering Torres started to work on preparing an engine failure as soon as she returned to engineering. She could sense the Colonel watching her closely, she hoped the replica was knew as little about the ships workings as the Colonel and was somewhat less astute.

"Vorick, there is a fluctuation in relay 47KZ, fix it." She ordered her Vulcan assistant. It would get her out of the room and stop him interfering, she thought.

"Yes Lieutenant," he duly replied.

She moved to another console and made an adjustment. She grunted in annoyance and moved to a heavy access panel.

"Colonel, could you help me remove this panel? It's a little heavy." She asked sweetly, "There's a fluctuation in the plasma relays. We need to stabilise it before it becomes a problem."

"Certainly," the Colonel replied. He moved to her side and grabbed the handles as she released the latches and stepped aside.

The panel released from its restraints blasted the Colonel across the room as a surge of plasma was released. He hit the far wall with a thud and remained stunned as Torres returned to the control panel and shut down the plasma stream. She turned towards him to see him lifting the heavy door from himself and stand, he dropped the hatch on the floor with a clang and automatically reached for the phasor at his belt. She hadn't expected that, the forces involved would have crushed any human. She ripped out her phasor and fired until he fell to the floor.

She turned her attention to a control panel and erected a force field around the replicant, then set about preparing to gain navigational control of the ship.

  


"What have you done?" The Doctor shouted at the confused crewman and crouching by Seven of Nine.

"She shot the Captain!" He protested.

"It's not the Captain!" The Doctor shouted back. "It's an impostor!"

"Can you prove that, Doctor?" Ensign Carver asked, still protesting.

"She was shot earlier by the Colonel, with a phasor. Is that likely?" The Doctor hissed.

The Ensign stood stunned for a moment. "No, Sir!" He agreed.

The Doctor applied a stimulant to Seven of Nine and she stirred.

"Commander Tuvok is in Astro metrics. He is damaged. The replica Ensign Kim is also there. He has been disabled." Were the first words she uttered.

"I'll deal with them in a minute." The Doctor assured her. "Are you all right?"

"I am functioning. What is the status of Engineering?"

"B'Elanna has dealt with the Colonel and has the ship under control."

"We must return to Valoria to rescue the Captain," she claimed, struggling onto her feet again.

"I'll see to it, Ma'am!" Claimed the Ensign in attrition. "I apologise for my actions, Ma'am. Please don't tell the Colonel!"

"You were unaware of the deception and behaved correctly," she assured him uncomfortably, she felt as though she had been pummelled head to foot. "Your apology is unnecessary. However we need to recover our Away Team. Set course for Valoria. Maximum warp. Bring the ship to battle stations," she commanded taking control of the ship."

The vessel turned and retraced its route.

  


Chakotay was examining the Colonel with concern. His problems were obviously getting worse.

"Kim, take Toms place. I need his medical expertise. The Colonel is dying!" He screamed.

"I can't fly this!" Exclaimed Kim, "I've never tried the Colonel's airplane!"

"Then get him to land. He's needed more here than up there."

"I'll take it." Captain Janeway said, groggily getting to her feet and moving forward.

Paris released the controls to the Captain and waited a moment to ensure she had proper control then staggered back towards the figures at the back of the craft. They were attempting CPR.

"I need a stimulant, and something to get his heart going," he said, examining the Colonel. "What's in that first aid kit?" He pointed to a green case in an alcove.

Kim grabbed it and examined the unfamiliar phials it contained, selecting one he snapped it into an injector and passed it to Tom, who injected it. 

"Now something to get his heart going, find a couple of big power leads from that console," he demanded.

Chakotay ripped the front off the panel, located two thick cables and ripped those out, they produced reassuring sparks. These he rammed into the Colonel's chest at the command of Tom Paris. He jerked then fell back again.

"Again!" Paris insisted.

Chakotay responded. Again the Colonel surged.

"We have a pulse!" Paris exclaimed in relief. "Just don't tell the Doc how I did it!" 

"More of whatever you put in this injector," he demanded of Kim.

Kim handed him the phial, "There's only one more left." He cautioned.

"Tom, there are craft coming after us," the Captain called. "Do you know how to get the weapons systems working?"

"The firing and defence controls are all part of the control column," He responded. "I don't know what they do though."

"Try and get hold of Voyager. We'll have to hope that Seven of Nine has been as resourceful as the Colonel claims." She announced, engaging full power.

"They're on their way, Captain!" Paris announced, "They'll be here in a couple of hours, so the fighters could catch us. Seven reports that these fighters don't appear on the standard sensors, so she's adjusting the deflectors to pick up their trail."

Desperately the Captain slammed at the power lever. It jerked forward another notch. The craft leapt forward pinning them into their seats. They sat back to wait.

"Boosters!" Gasped Tom. "They won't last long before the engines burn out," he warned.

  


"Your Highness. The prisoners have taken a Starfighter, the Imperial squadron is pursuing them," Martha announced unhappily to her mistress.

The Princess turned towards her aide, she was taken aback by the stricken face she saw. The Princess had been crying.

"Call our fighters back. Let them go!" She whispered.

"Your Highness?"

"I have considered what they have said. Perhaps they are right we should find another way and not destroy people for our own needs."

"Yes, your Highness!" She agreed dutifully.

  


"The fighters have turned back, Captain!" Ensign Kim announced. "I think we can slow down a little. The engines are overheating!"

Thankfully the Captain did as Kim suggested. "How long before Voyager reaches us?" 

"Sixty minutes," said Chakotay.

"And the Colonel?"

"He's okay, the paralysis is wearing off, he's breathing easily again," answered Paris.

In silent relief they sailed on, until they were interrupted by a deeper silence.

"The engines have burnt out," the Captain announced in resignation from the pilot's seat. "Let Voyager know we need to be picked up."

  


Seventy minutes later the ship was dragged into Voyagers shuttle bay. They were met by Seven of Nine, B'Elanna Torres, Tuvok and the Doctor as they disembarked.

Rapidly the Doctor moved forward and examined the Away Team. "I can happily announce they are the genuine articles." He announced in relief to Seven of Nine.

"What have you done with the mechanoids?" The Captain asked Seven.

"They are in the Brig, awaiting a decision."

"I'll deal with it later," the Captain affirmed.

"Perhaps we ought to send them back, Ma'am. Along with the craft we stole." The Colonel suggested weakly, leaning on Chakotay. "Keep everything above board like."

"Perhaps. But you need to go to sickbay to be checked over properly, so does Seven, she keeps holding her side, so I think she has been hurt."

"Ma'am!" He replied.

They watched them depart.

"You know he still asked for permission to come aboard that space craft?" Chakotay said to the Captain.

"It doesn't surprise me in the least. It's our guarantee he is who he says," she affirmed. 

She took a deep breath. "Can you smell it?" she asked the assembled group.

"What, Captain?" Asked Torres in surprise.

"The smell of sea on the rocks!"

"No!"

"Nor could I until yesterday. But it is there," she confided. "He was right about that as well."

  


"How was my facsimile, Miss Nine?" The Colonel teased after the Doctor had finished fussing.

"He was a good copy," she announced calmly, "In some ways he was preferable."

The Colonel's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "How so?" He demanded.

"I took him to experience a reproduction of 'Brains' and we became intimate. He was more responsive than you!" She teased back.

"Oh!" 

He thought for a moment. "Perhaps I should take you down to the holodeck and get you to demonstrate how intimate he was?"

"I will comply!" She agreed readily and led him to the holodeck, where she activated her programme.

"Now let's see," the Colonel said, scratching his chin in thought as the band started a gentle dance tune. "Did he do this?" He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close and kissing her tenderly.

"Yes!" She responded.

"How about this?" He asked, moving his hands apart and gently stroking her neck and buttocks.

"Or this?" He kissed her firmly on the mouth, prising her lips apart with his tongue, then teased her own with it.

"No!" She whispered huskily.

"I don't think we need a dance floor," he whispered, "You've no idea how my desires have been tempted for the last few days, but I'm still all yours and I still want you. Do you want me?"

"We should return to quarters, we will discuss the matter properly." She replied, still husky. "You will demonstrate these desires you have."

They adjourned.

Revision 9

   [1]: mailto:story@rgower.f9.co.uk



	5. The Cathors

**1-14 The Cathors**

  
_Captain Janeway decides to surrender her ship. Voyager rescues another ship... _

_Voyager and characters (except the Colonel) in this story are copyright of Paramount. No resemblance is intended to any person alive or dead._

_The story line additional characters and the Colonel are my own._

_Constructive criticism and comments are welcome on e-mail story@rgower.f9.co.uk ._

_If like me you like to know why things occur like they do, I would heartily recommend you start at chapter 1-01 Castaway. _

_This story is rated PG13 on the UK sensors ratings_

_©R Gower 2000_

  


Through the blackness of space the Star Ship Voyager sped silently upon her course, a course that would eventually lead most of her crew to a place they once knew as home. 

Most of its crew dreamed of journeys' end as a happy event, with joyous reunions with loved ones, promotions, possibly the chance of never having to take another journey in a space ship. For some, like Neelix the ships cook and self-appointed morale officer, it would herald a new life after the destruction of everything he knew. For others like Naomi Wildman, asleep in her mother's quarters, it would be the start of new challenges and the loss of her surrogate family, the crew of the Voyager. For Seven of Nine, the destination gave the journey a goal, a purpose. The arrival meant less to her, than the journey and the company she now had.

None of these thoughts were going through Captain Kathryn Janeway's mind, as she tossed and turned in her bunk. She was desperately seeking sleep and peace from the thoughts that were plaguing her mind. Her mind was playing on the range of errors she had made and the near disasters she had led her ship and crew into, the enemies she had made, Hirogen, Borg and others. The latest near disaster had been less than 48 hours ago, when she had allowed herself to become friendly with a race that enticed males for use as procreation systems to rescue their own race, then used wormholes as garbage disposal chutes to remove anything that was of no further use. Her ship had been rescued by Seven of Nine, who managed to identify the mechanoids that had been substituted for her and the rest of the landing party. A woman whom she had once thought of as an automaton herself. She and her landing party, had been rescued by the Colonel, a self-confessed cynic and caveman, a man whose own world had long ago, disappeared to make way for her own. The time before the same two people had rescued her ship from the Borg. As her tortured mind scanned back over the previous two years, their names and faces kept standing out as her rescuers from the disasters that had looked impossible to escape from. 

It seemed so unjust, the way they operated together to rescue her from her own blunders, treating it as their duty, then carried on following her orders without question. Not that she had anything to reward them with accept her verbal thanks and mentions in the logs, which they brushed off and in the case of the Colonel objected to. 

The Colonel was the most difficult to understand of the two. He had commanded far more men in far more hostile and desperate circumstances and come out alive and victorious. What must he really think of her clumsy actions, she wondered, why should he follow her orders so faithfully.

Finally she gave up the unequal struggle, rose from her bed, dressed and approached her replicator.

"Coffee, hot, black," She ordered huskily, her throat dry.

The machine shimmered and a mug appeared. She took it and sipped at the contents.

It could taste like coffee, she reasoned, it had been a long time since she had last tasted the real thing, it was the right colour and definitely liquid, but it was not hot. In a fit of pique she threw the mug at the replicator. It broke and the brown contents dripped over the machine and the floor. 

It suddenly dawned on her what the Colonel must have suffered as he tried to get to grips with the technology they had insisted on teaching him to use, the frustration he must feel trying to make it do as he wanted without knowing how or why it worked. She couldn't make the technology work either and she was supposed to know all about it.

She stumped towards the door, out into the dimly lit corridor outside and stalked the corridors alone in her own pool of depression. It was 05:00.

The ships automated scrubbing system changed the polarity of its protective shielding, dislodging the dirt and dust that gathered around any solid object in space. It dislodged a small meteorite from outside the Captains window, no bigger than a thumb it faintly glowed green as it disappeared into the blackness of space, unnoticed by anybody or anything.

  
  


Seven of Nine woke early that morning. She felt strangely relaxed after the previous nights activities. She had demonstrated her holodeck programme of Brains Nightclub, enjoying the close coupled dancing and smooching. She had teased the Colonel, comparing him unfavourably with his mechanical surrogate. He, in his turn, had responded in the way she had hoped and had patiently waiting for him to do since that one night of love on G57452. This time, she decided, had been even better, he had been more reactive, proving to be passionate, gentle and caring. She gazed at him fondly, wondering at how a single person could change the attitudes of another so completely and seemingly so easily. He was lying with his back to her, holding her left hand with both of his, her arm laying easily beneath his neck. 

The Doctors' efforts to instruct her on how to socialise with ordinary humans, so as to put them at their ease, had failed, she remembered sourly. She had been unable to respond naturally and in his recommended fashion. She had, she reflected, been as fake as the Colonel often accused the Doctor of being. 

The Colonel however had accepted her as she was and without any special effort on her part and actually liked and encouraged her naturally direct style. Not that she had not tried to effect a few, sometimes clumsy, romantic surprises on him and she had enjoyed the sense of achievement as he had smiled, laughed or blushed. Nor was their relationship always smooth, but their disagreements were few and were nothing like as stormy as those witnessed between Lieutenants Paris and Torres.

Idly she speculated if he could be provoked into reaction again when he awoke, she desperately wanted to re-experience the erotic sensations she had felt the previous night. She hoped it would not take another six months for her to break his resistance again.

She glanced at the chronometer on the wall, it was barely 5:00 AM, it would be another thirty minutes before he woke naturally. She snuggled up closer to him, kissing his neck, grazing it with her teeth, simultaneously letting her right arm slide over and down between his legs and stroke his sensitive areas. She was rewarded as she felt him harden and stir.

"You really are a naughty girl," he mumbled drowsily.

"The doctor's romantic fictions suggest that these actions have a pleasurable effect," she whispered in his ear, gently nibbling the lobe.

He rolled onto his back, giving her better access. "They are most pleasurable," he assured her, "But are usually only used by people who want something specific."

Gently he pulled her on top of him, kissing her on the neck as she settled, then ran his finger tips gently down her back, making her squirm as they tickled her flanks. "What do you want, Miss Nine?" He whispered.

"I wish to assimilate you!" She whispered back, fiercely, "Resistance is futile."

"With treatment like this, who's resisting?" He queried with a grin.

Gamely she pinned his hands down by his head and struggled into a kneeling position on his stomach. "You are being unusually reactive. Why?" She challenged, a little surprised at how easily she had managed to get him aroused.

"This is hardly the time!" He moaned, squirming under her as his excitement grew. 

"I wish to know?" She demanded. 

Teasingly she slid forward to pin his arms with her knees.

"Because there is the most beautiful creature in the galaxy sat on top of me, who for some wholly inexplicable reason seems to think I am wonderful. Because she is doing things that are terribly distracting. Because I love and want her so very much. Because there are no ghosts looking over my shoulder anymore. Because I've spent two days in the company of a spider woman that wanted me for herself, but had no thoughts for my feelings or how to get me to want her. Because I'm a man! Please!" He pleaded. With a huge effort he lifted his head and planted a kiss on the inside of her thigh, then slumped back again. 

She gasped as his teeth grazed the sensitive skin. "You explanation is acceptable," she agreed willingly, sliding herself back down his chest, taking his hands in hers again.

He slid his hands above his head, forcing her to lean forward, her breasts dangling over his face. He kissed them, making her gasp again at the erotic sensations.

Their cavorting was interrupted by the door chime.

"Bugger!" He hissed in frustration, sitting up, with a surprised Seven of Nine sliding onto his lap.

"Who is it?" He called, wrapping his arms around his lover and kissing her passionately.

"Kathryn Janeway!" The voice floated back.

Startled they looked at each other, flashes of guilt passing across their faces. 

"It's all right!" He whispered, recovering quickly, "If she doesn't think we're close by now she must be blind and stupid. The Captain is neither. Nor does she think we're at it like rabbits, at least l hope not!"

"Two minutes please, Ma'am!" He called, swinging them both out of the bed.

Quickly they dressed, then whilst Seven straightened the covers on the bed the Colonel opened the door for the Captain. He was surprised by her obviously distressed state.

"Please, I've got to talk to somebody!" She pleaded immediately the door opened, "I'm sorry if I woke you, but Seven says you're always awake about now."

"We were awake, Ma'am," the Colonel admitted gruffly, "But otherwise engaged."

"I'm dreadfully sorry, I'll go away," she apologised.

"Your not going anywhere, Ma'am," He commanded sharply.

"Besides I suspect the moods been lost and I'd feel guilty about it later," he added more gently, a small smile playing on his lips.

"Come in, sit down and tell us what brings you banging on the door at crack of dawn."

He turned to Seven of Nine, "Please, Miss Nine, could you get the Captain a hot, strong black coffee, she looks as though she needs it."

The Captain did as he bid and sat timidly in one of the easy chairs. She felt something hard behind her, reached back and pulled out a teddy bear. She looked at it dumbly, then raised a questioning eyebrow at the Colonel.

"It's Miss Nine's, Ma'am," he admitted, "I don't know why she has it, I've never felt the need to ask."

"It was a gift from crewman Naomi Wildman," Seven of Nine announced without a trace of embarrassment, turning back from the replicator with the Captains coffee. "She believed it would bring comfort and help me sleep naturally."

"Did it work?" The Colonel asked with interest.

"I am uncertain. The current arrangements are more satisfactory." She handed the steaming cup to the Captain, who sipped its contents appreciatively.

"Are you the only one who can get the replicators to work properly?" She asked, "I've been trying to get a hot coffee from mine for months!"

"I was unaware there was a fault with the replicator system. I shall repair it this morning," Seven agreed calmly.

The Colonel interrupted the conversation. "I don't think you came here to complain about replicators, Ma'am. Or arrange a new work detail. What's on your mind?"

She took a deep breath. "I'm going to step down as Captain!"

Seven of Nine slumped into a chair in shock. the Colonel leaned forward slightly in his, it was the only visible display of emotion he showed at the surprise he was also feeling.

"Very good, Ma'am. Could I persuade you to explain the reason for your decision?" he asked gently.

"Because I'm making too many mistakes. I'm having to rely too much on others to rescue me from catastrophes of my own making, especially on you two, it's not fair. I'm going to kill us all long before we get home!" She exclaimed.

"Which mistakes would these be, Captain?" He asked, keeping his voice gentle.

"The Valorians, Hirogen's, Tharg's, Borg's, simply being here!" She exclaimed.

"I see. What about the decisions that weren't mistakes?"

"I haven't made any!"

"Excuse me, Captain. But even in Star Fleet, if you were in the habit of making serious mistakes, you would not have been made Captain." he commented gently

"How long have you been in the Delta Quadrant?" He asked, quickly changing the pace of the conversation.

"Nearly Seven years," her reply was hesitant, as she wondered where he was going.

"What was the crew complement when you arrived?"

"One hundred fifty-one."

"And the current crew complement?"

"One hundred forty-three."

"And the number of near total disasters?"

"Too many!" She cried.

"If we ignore the interlopers, Mr Neelix, Miss Nine, Miss Wildman and myself, you have lost just twelve crew in over six years of sailing in a region where there is no support, no friendly bases, no rest and no chance of proper repairs, hardly evidence of major errors," he pointed out. "I've lost three times that many in that many minutes."

"But you were involved in wars, you expect to lose people in war! I've never been in a war!" She protested hotly.

"Yes, it was in war," he admitted, "But there are similarities to your position, surrounded by hostiles and the unknown. I've also lost more men than that through training and illness and they hurt even more!"

"What is the definition of a good Commander, Captain?" He asked, changing the focus again.

"A good Commander understands how to operate a Star Ship," she offered.

"Bollocks!" He snapped, "If that were true, why would you have one hundred forty crew? Try again?"

She shut her eyes and concentrated. "A good Commander makes a decision and follows it, using their crew in the method best suited to each person."

"Much better!" He beamed at her.

"A good Commander knows damned well they can't do everything. So he uses the people around him to do it for him, that's what they are there for. When he has made his decision, he sticks with it until successful." He reinforced her definition.

"If we take your first meeting with the Borg, could anybody else on the ship, me for instance, have come to the same decision and make it work?"

"No," she admitted, "But you would have found another way."

"I probably would, but it may not have been as successful, nor would I have had Miss Nine to appreciate," he admitted.

"If you needed a good pilot, who do you turn to?"

"Tom Paris!"

He nodded, "Could you have operated in the physical way required to subdue the Tharg, or release the ship as quickly as Miss Nine did in the circumstances?"

"No," She admitted.

"So you chose to follow my instructions, at that time, knowing that if you wished I would give up and follow yours. Why?"

"Because you knew what you were doing, it's your natural environment, nobody could do what you achieved," she blustered.

He nodded, "Perhaps, it was a circumstance I've met before and knew how to deal with it, so you let me get on with it, as a good Commander does," he agreed.

"Face it, Captain. You are bloody good at your job. Yes you make mistakes. We all do. The art is not in avoiding mistakes. It's in getting out of them. If that means you had to rely on a caveman to act like a thug, or a Borg to be able to tell the difference between a real man and a mannequin, who cares, it works and it will keep working as long as you remember that those people are there to help you do yours!"

"If you decide to give up, who will you ask to take your place?" He asked gently.

"I think you would be the ideal candidate. You react better to hostile situations than Chakotay!" She stammered.

He shook his head, "Sorry Ma'am, I'm in the wrong service. I can't drive your ship for you. If you take the Star Fleet rank you awarded me, then there are at least sixty others better qualified, otherwise you'd be surrendering to a foreign power, it's not on."

"Chakotay then!"

"He will refuse. He knows he can't do what you have done for the last six years, he's not inventive enough. Tuvok might, but he would work entirely to Star Fleet rationales and they don't work too well in the midst of the outback, away from any form of support. That leaves your Lieutenants and they are not command experienced. The crew trust their Captain to get them home, not me or anybody else, they trust her to trust them to help her do what is needed," he commented gently.

"Would you take some advice from me?" He asked.

She nodded dumbly.

"Don't tell anybody of your decision. Take a couple of days on Sick Parade and give yourself a chance to think," he suggested calmly.

She nodded again, getting up to leave.

"Do you understand French, Ma'am?" He asked, as she moved to the door.

"Yes!" She replied, "Why?"

"Have you ever read Voltaire, Ma'am?"

"No, Why?" She asked again.

"Nor have I," he replied amiably, "But one of my men did and he translated a passage for me, he thought it apt for the position we were in at the time. It went something along the lines of, 'Everything is for the best, in the best of possible worlds,' for a Frenchman it seems remarkably perceptive. Everything is fore destined so they say, Ma'am, it will work out right in the end, it's just that we may not be able to see what the end is until we get there. Whatever you eventually decide, I will accept it and fight for your right to make it as the Captain, even though I may not like it," he vowed.

"If you wish for company whilst your deciding, Miss Nine and myself are at your disposal, but we won't try and change your mind. We'll discuss the weather, Mr Neelix's cooking, Naomi Wildman's bruises, anything except the Captain and her private problems."

"Thank you!" She managed to say as she fled out the door.

"Hells Bells!" He cursed as the door closed, suddenly animated. "We are in deep shit!"

"It is a problem," Seven agreed. "But you will get her to change her mind," she added loyally.

"We can try. At least she told us first. But I am going to have to talk to Commander Chakotay first."

"The Captain came to us because she thinks you will treat the conversation as private as you did with me," Seven pointed out.

"Perhaps she did, but I made no reference to it. This is too important. The safety of the ship is involved. I think you might be the best person to look after the Captain though. She will think I am aiming to get her change her mind and she would be right, she will be less certain about you, especially if you can avoid the subject?"

"I will comply," she agreed reluctantly, uncertain that she could perform what he was asking.

He wrapped his arms around her waist and kissed her gently. "You'll do fine! You're only person who can get the Captain to see things in black and white," he whispered, gently encouraging her and kissing her, before leaving.

He found Chakotay in the Mess eating breakfast.

"Good morning, Sir!" He announced cheerfully, "May my mug and I join you?"

Chakotay looked up with a smile, "Of course, where's Seven? You two are just about inseparable."

"Not so inseparable we can't do our duty, Sir!" the Colonel assured him sitting down.

"Okay, so what do you wish to talk about?" Chakotay asked shrewdly, "You haven't had breakfast, so something is on your mind. Is there a problem?"

"Yes, Sir!"

"Seven?"

"No, Sir. Surprisingly enough, I think we are quite content with each other. The problem is rather more serious than that and I'd rather discuss it somewhere more private."

"What is it?" Chakotay asked, alarmed by the Colonel's vagueness.

"May I suggest my quarters in fifteen minutes, please?" The question was asked more as a demand than a request and ignored the questioning look.

Chakotay sighed, "Okay, but it had better be good. Kathryn isn't feeling well this morning, so she's not turned up for the shift. I was about to order the Doctor to make a house call."

"That would not be a good move just at the moment, Sir. Please wait until after we have talked," the Colonel responded quickly.

"Why?" Chakotay demanded sharply.

"Fifteen minutes, Sir," was all the reply he received as the Colonel rose from the table and drained his mug. Chakotay watched him leave pensively.

He arrived at the Colonel's quarters ten minutes later.

"What is the problem? What is going on?" he demanded as the Colonel dragged him into his room.

"The Captain is unwell," admitted the Colonel, "But it is something that the crew and the Doctor should not be allowed to know about until there is no choice."

"Is it terminal?" Chakotay asked quickly.

"Not directly for her maybe, but very possibly for the crew and the ship. If you'll take a seat I'll explain," the Colonel offered.

Quickly he went over the Captain's visit that morning.

"So you see, Sir. I think the Captain wants to be talked out of her decision. Otherwise, she wouldn't have come here! But if it gets recorded by the Doctor, things will be a lot more difficult and it's not something he can simply pump her full of drugs for. The crew needs a strong Captain. Otherwise, morale will suffer badly. If the Doctor finds out so will the crew." He finished.

"Do you know the ailment and how to treat the problem?" Chakotay asked reasonably.

"I know the problem, it's a form of what we used to call, 'Trench Happiness', she has been in the firing line too long. The treatment is simple in theory but very difficult to achieve, especially on the ship. Cure is a lot more difficult."

"Okay, what's the treatment?" Asked Chakotay.

"Rest and Recuperation they used to call it. A total break from the daily life of the ship and lots of good company," came the Colonel's reply. "The trouble is, if we are put in a dangerous position any time soon, she will be out of her cabin like a shot and try to take control and everything will be put back to square one."

"You seem to know a lot about it. You've suffered from this, haven't you?" Chakotay challenged.

"Yes, Sir! Probably for most of my life, just living for the next chance to die," the Colonel admitted. "But I think I have the cure now!"

"Seven of Nine?" Suggested Chakotay shrewdly.

"She has given me an awful lot to live for," the Colonel admitted, blushing.

"Falling in love is not an option that the Captain has opened herself to," Chakotay pointed out.

I know, Sir. There was a time I would have agreed with her, but not now, and not here!"

My relationship with the Captain finished before it began, she stopped it short. You're not suggesting I should try and take it up again are you? He demanded quietly

That is between you and the Captain, Sir! Not me, the Colonel responded frankly. But it might be worth making her aware of it again. If that is the case?" The Colonel suggested shrewdly.

Chakotay nodded, accepting the suggestion at face value. "If I can't tell the Doctor, who can I tell, Tuvok? He asked

"Provided he leaves the records alone, then I would have no objection," the Colonel admitted.

"And what do you propose to do?"

"I'll wait until she asks for me to go and see her, or there's no choice. To go before that would be counter productive."

"What happens if you fail?"

"It will be your problem. I'll support the decisions of the Captain of the Star Ship Voyager, but I will not get involved in any internal disputes, other than protection of the noncombatants and non Star Fleet crew."

"Thank you. You've made your stand point very clear," remarked Chakotay grimly getting up to go. "Why don't you take over the ship?" He asked from the door, "You could do it!"

"As a Star Fleet ship, there are too many people who have seniority, Sir! The only way I could take it, is if it was surrendered to me as an officer in Her Majesties Army, then I would drive it like I drove my own men. Do you want reveille played at 05:30 every morning, parading to salute the Union Flag, then two hours' hard physical labour and drill, before breakfast, Commander?"

"I suppose not," he agreed. But I am going to bring the Doctor in, whether you like it or not. If you fail, he'll have to do what he can, he warned and left.

  
  


Seven arrived outside the Captain's door about an hour after the Captain had left her quarters, she was lugging two cases with her. She rang the chime, announcing her presence.

"What do you want?" A wretched voice came from inside.

"I wish to repair the faulty replicator," Seven called.

"Come in then!" 

The voice seemed, to Seven, to be far less then the Captain's usual firm manner. She entered nervously to find the Captain gazing dejectedly through the view port. The Captain turned as she entered. The sight was upsetting, her eyes were red from crying, her hair was a mess and uniform badly crumpled.

"You won't change my mind," the Captain said, as Seven pulled the cases into the room.

"I am here to replace your replicator, you stated there was a fault with the unit," Seven replied coolly. "I was not intending to make you change anything."

"He sent you though didn't he? He thinks you can make me carry on as the Captain by simply listening?" She challenged.

Seven of Nine answered the question with an upturned eyebrow. "If you wish to talk, I will listen," she agreed cautiously.

She looked at her sharply. "He has, hasn't he? He's made you into a clone of himself?" She claimed. "All those hours you and he have spent together, he's made you think and act like him. Under all that, 'Seven is far too intelligent to be like me,' nonsense he's manipulated you to act and think like him."

Captain Janeway's words stung Seven of Nine like a slap across the face and she flushed with unaccustomed anger. "The Colonel has never tried to make me like him. It has always been the opposite. He has always offered alternative ways of thinking and accepts the combinations I have chosen," she said as calmly as she could manage, she could feel anger rising.

"But you have always taken the view he prefers. You're his clone and he manipulates you!" The Captain screamed back.

"I would prefer to emulate the Colonel, with his faults, than a Captain that wishes me to be as narrow minded as she is!" Seven shouted back, fleetingly giving way to her temper. She stopped and swallowed hard, struggling to regain her senses. She almost managed it before the next onslaught.

So you follow him, like a faithful dog, copying him! Captain Janeway snapped.

"His view points offer a wider scope as to the term, acceptable, than the opinions that you use and would have me use! He actively believes races and individuals should believe and do as they desire, provided they do not wish to impose them upon others without their acceptance. The definition is acceptable and matches the ideals claimed in Star Fleet doctrines!" Seven argued back, struggling for her orderly tone. She could feel her fists clenching and unclenching in involuntary anger and made a conscious effort to stop it happening, never before had she been so close to a show of naked anger and aggression with the Captain.

"So he thinks the Borg are good! But he fights them!" Snarled the Captain. Trying to pick a fight with the blonde who was still trying to regain control after her previous outburst.

Seven finally managed, with a supreme effort, to regain her self control. "He believes they act in a way that is acceptable to the Borg," she corrected her. "He resists them when they try to impose their beliefs on others without their consent."

The Captain fell silent, she had deliberately taunted the tall ex-borg, for something to let loose at, she had almost succeeded she realised but had finally and significantly failed to score. Her anger dissipated and she returned dejectedly to the view port.

Seven, sensing the skirmish was over turned to the replicator. She pondered the Captains comments as she removed the panels from the machine, wondering if she had been right. Had the Colonel deliberately manipulated her feelings to match his. Their beliefs were certainly similar at face value, she decided, but considering them more deeply, they were not identical. She believed in the technology that surrounded her, for instance, he believed in the people that shared their lives. He had simply accepted the difference, as had she in the end. He had introduced her to many of the beliefs she now held and had offered her alternatives, challenging her to explain her reasoning for them until she was comfortable with the concepts. Try as she might she could not find a logical argument against his methods or see anyway he had influenced her decision by manipulation. In the end she decided her beliefs were her own, the fact that many were shared with the Colonel was an agreeable coincidence.

After two hours of replacing, testing and tuning she achieved what she thought would be an acceptable result. "Coffee, black, 70 degrees Celsius!" She commanded.

A cup shimmered into existence before her. She took it and approached the Captain with it, she was still gazing out the window.

"Coffee, Captain?" She offered the peace offering quietly.

The Captain turned and looked at her, momentarily puzzled, then spying the mug in her hand took it gratefully. Carefully she sipped the beverage then looked up, "Thank you! It even tastes of coffee!"

"The system has been tuned to suit your command parameters," Seven informed her casually. "There were some components that were out of specification. They have been replaced."

"I'm sorry for what I said earlier," the Captain suddenly confessed. "It's just you and the Colonel are so close to each other, so similar in your approach to things, it hides the differences. He could never get that replicator to produce a cup of coffee."

"His abilities with replicator technology are limited," Seven agreed candidly. "His solution to obtaining a cup of coffee would be to grow the required beans. It would be inefficient in the current circumstances."

"You see! You work together. You cover his deficiencies, just as he covers yours. You're a perfect team!" The Captain claimed.

"We are efficient," she admitted. "But so also are the rest of the crew that form the ships collective," protested Seven.

"But not in the same way you and the Colonel do. You are so close you automatically know what the other wants and needs and simply does it!"

Seven considered the comment for a moment then in inspiration she said. "You are lonely!"

The statement thrust the Captain back in her seat.

"You feel that you cannot talk to somebody, to discuss and resolve your inadequacies. You think you must be alone to maintain your status as Captain," Seven continued remorselessly.

"Yes!" The Captain admitted quietly.

"You are in error!"

"I am the Captain! I must keep a certain distance from the crew. Otherwise, I would not be able to perform my duty! I have no choice!" Captain Janeway protested, "Even the Colonel would agree with that."

"I have observed that the Colonel maintains different attitudes to suit the requirements of the moment," Seven commented. "He is gentle and kind off duty, formal but friendly on duty, yet displays great authority and firmness if there is a circumstance that requires it. He achieves these characteristics with everybody, including me. Perhaps you should do as you have accused me, attempt to emulate him?"

"But he is not the commander!"

"According to Sergeant Major O'Neil, he acted similarly with the men in his regiment. None of them would be prepared to deviate from the orders he gave," Seven commented. "We have also followed his commands and instructions when it has been necessary to do so. He is still a commander and takes command when needed, but he is prepared to be a subordinate to the commander of this vessel, you!"

"To be like the Colonel, you would have to be the Colonel!" The Captain exclaimed desperately. "I've never met anybody like him!"

"Perhaps," Seven agreed, "Apart from those aboard this ship, I have had little opportunity to meet humans on an amicable basis. The Colonel himself would observe, 'You do not know what you can do until you try'," She paraphrased. "Perhaps you should discuss your problems with him? Our discussions were of great benefit to me. He would do the same for you. It may enable you to adapt?" She offered.

But you two got so close to each other through them. He could get that way with me. It would put your relationship at risk? The Captain suggested timidly.

Seven of Nine swallowed. It will not put us at risk, She assured her bravely.

She left the Captain to her thoughts.

  
  


The Captain is unwell, but we need to keep it quiet, for the good of the ship as a whole, Chakotay announced to Tuvok and the Doctor in a private meeting.

I see, remarked the Doctor unimpressed. What is the nature of the illness?

Trench Happiness, Doctor, The Colonel put in quickly.

There is no such condition! The Doctor responded immediately.

Believe me there is, the Colonel argued. It's been called many things in the past, lack of moral fibre, combat fatigue, this, that or the other syndrome. Basically you get to the point where you've seen so many dangerous situations, that the only thing that keeps you going is danger. You've been lucky, the condition hasn't surfaced very often as far as I can make out"

Why wasn't I told about it sooner? I could treat it? The Doctor protested hotly.

What would you do? Demanded the Colonel. Pump her full of sedatives, mark it up in the records, then peer cross-eyed at those medical texts on human emotions that you still have?

I would have examined her and prescribed suitable treatment. The Doctor began.

The Colonel interjected.

the Doctor admitted reluctantly.

They don't work. I've been on them! The Colonel announced sharply. All they do is hide the symptoms for a while, then you need progressively higher doses until it all crashes down around you. 

Look, Doctor, he continued more gently, I know you can treat almost anything, upto and in many cases including death. But this is one that only the Captain can treat with the help of a few close friends. But if you record it, it will leave a doubt in the minds of everybody, especially her and those who don't know her well.

"You believe you can cure the Captain's disorder without assistance," Tuvok challenged. 

The Colonel sighed heavily, this was proving as difficult as he had feared.

"No, I can't," he admitted, "I'm going to need help. Your help. We can't cure it, but we can treat it. It must be worth at least trying before the Doctor finishes her off with drugs."

"I agree," Tuvok announced at last. "What do you propose we should do?"

"Nothing out the ordinary. She's not feeling well. Simply run the ship, but avoid running to her with minor problems. You should both know how she will react by now," he said.

"And if something serious comes up? Asked Chakotay.

"Don't worry about it, she will be there giving orders again and we will be back at the start again."

"If the Captain will act as before, why should we be worried now? Your statement lacks logic, Explain?" Tuvok demanded.

The Colonel shook his head sadly. "I'd have thought with all that Vulcan mind control, you at least would understand," he chided. 

"Look at me, if you want to know why you should be worried! I've acted aboard this ship in accordance to my regulations, sometimes even beyond them, agreed?"

They nodded uncertainly.

"But when I have done so I've offered myself for judgement according to your regulations, feeling guilty because I may have failed or broken rules. I've got away with it for many years, because I always had somebody to judge me, but it still broke me in the end. The Captain hasn't got that luxury, aboard this ship, here in the Delta Quadrant, she is the last word of judgement, there is nobody else," he explained, then continued.

"We have just finished another potentially disastrous adventure. There is nothing more to do except wait for the next event. She has gone to bed thinking about what happened, suddenly part of her mind decided that the whole thing was her fault along with everything else. But there are still the rest of her thoughts there, the strong ones that allow her to make life and death decisions. But they have been worn thin by the need to continuously make them, they need time to recover before they need to stretch again. When she needs them, they will be there, but unless they're allowed to recover properly they will become more stressed and more likely to break when really needed. If it happens in a real crisis then we will all die, but here and now we know of the problem, we can try and do something for it. She is the best Captain we have or are likely to have for a while. We need her!" He finished with the plea.

It was Tuvok's turn to sigh, "I believe you are correct," he agreed reluctantly. 

"We will try treatment your way, but you must keep the Doctor fully informed," Chakotay decided.

"Sir!" The Colonel responded. "Please remember this isn't some physical ailment that the Doctor can just apply one of his potions and fix in a moment. It will take time!"

All returned to their duties, carefully avoiding the subject of the Captain again. 

  
  


The Colonel repaired to the Science Laboratory, where he had almost set up base over the last week. His musings before he had been caught up with the Valorians, had been directed at the aim of impressing and genuinely wooing Seven of Nine. This was still the goal, now, thanks to the Valorian Princess, he had an idea to go with it. He started to scavenge through the manifests of samples and specimens that the ship had gathered over the years it had been in the Delta Quadrant, cross linking the manifests with the material descriptions, then physically going to inspect likely candidates, for what he wanted.

His search was interrupted by B'Elanna Torres. She asked nervously.

Lieutenant? I don't suppose you could help me a little, please? He asked hopefully, secretly relieved by the interruption.

Yes, possibly, what do you want? She said, momentarily nonplussed.

Ideally some gold sheet. The computer tells me it can't produce it. That was after it told me it couldn't define the measurements. There are times. I could really throttle Napoleon.

Why do you want gold? Who was Napoleon? She asked in total bafflement.

Napoleon was a French Emperor, dictator you'd probably call him now. He was responsible for nearly twenty years of war in the late 18th Century. Of more importance to you and me, is that he introduced the system of measurement you use now, it replaced feet and inches I still think in. I'd thought I'd managed to teach the computer to convert things properly, but I've missed a few definitions, he smiled guiltily, as if admitting a foul deed.

As for the gold, I know I can make what I want with gold. It's the most malleable metal I know of and I can work it and rework it until it goes right.

Oh! There are better metals for that than gold, she claimed. There's Kryolyte, Chamelolyte, Rubinite and a couple of others.

Do we have any? What are they like? He asked with interest.

Rubinite is a deep red, very soft. It's used as a lubricating surface. Chamelolyte changes colours in different lights. Kryolyte almost glows yellow, she described, We should have some in Engineering.

They sound absolutely perfect, even better than perfect actually. Can you spare some? He asked with enthusiasm.

What do you want it for? She demanded.

A little gift for my fair lady, he admitted. The Captain says she won't appreciate flowers, just as well really I've never really appreciated them either, but she is still a romantic under every thing so a small token might not go amiss.

And you're going to make it? She asked incredulously.

Yes! I could never get a replicator to produce what I want, he agreed.

I wish Tom could do something like that, she said enviously.

Is that why you've come to see me? He asked catching her intonation. Everybody has their abilities, Lieutenant. I can work metals because I learned the tricks to keep up with my men. But I can't fly a Star Ship as naturally as Lieutenant Paris, nor do I have his imagination, or your abilities with engines and systems. They are all more important in these wonderful days of science than the simple ability to work with your hands, he pointed out quietly. 

Yes, they probably are, she agreed. But there are things you do better than anybody else, that are just as important. I want to know if Tom does really love me. Seven suggested I should talk to you.

He looked her up and down carefully. Do you really want me to tell you, or do you want to find out yourself from Lieutenant Paris? He asked eventually.

I want to know! She claimed fervently.

He nodded. Yes he loves you, he agreed, But like all sailors and flyers he doesn't know how to prove it or commit himself because of the choice available.

What should I do?

You either wait for him to catch up with himself. Though that may not go the way you want. Or if you're determined then you nail him yourself, hard!

Just like Seven had to do with you? She asked smiling.

he denied with a laugh, Soldiers tend to travel slower than either of the other Services. It means we arrive after the party and have to be grateful with what's left. Can you blame me when I find that the most precious jewel hasn't been snapped up by some fly boy?

If she didn't nail you hard enough, then I don't think I can do it any harder. She was working on you since you arrived, even if she didn't realise, she laughed.

I'm sure it wasn't like that! He declared. But I confess I'm happy the way it seems to have panned out.

So you think I ought to propose to Tom? She queried, serious again.

Or manoeuvre him into a position where he can't do anything else, as you see fit, he agreed. But I'd strongly advise you to make sure it is what you both want. Marriage is a set of vows that can be very difficult to live with or break if it goes wrong. If it is any help the Captain thinks you could both cope. Personally I think it will be a struggle for you both. You are both hot headed. If you survive the first three years, then you'll cope with the rest, he finished lightly, with a smile.

If that is your opinion then I'll do as you suggest, I'll ask him at the next ships dinner, he'll find it difficult to refuse then, she said happily. But when are you going to marry Seven? She asked impishly.

When I have a future? He suggested gently.

You have a future, it's Seven of Nine, she laughed, turning for the door. I'll send some materials up so you can make your gift, but if you ask me the only thing she wants from you, is you!

He could hear her still laughing as the door closed behind her.

In the immediate absence of the materials he needed for his scheme, he settled down to consider the position of Tom and B'Elanna and their tempestuous love affair. If they did seal the knot, it would certainly be one of the most lively and exciting marriages imaginable, he decided. But there was potential, they certainly loved each other, in a closed and personal way. 

It could work, given encouragement, perhaps there may even be a way to help the Captain in the process, he thought. Eventually he pulled the small leather bag he always carried with him from inside his shirt and examined the contents, carefully he put aside a golden sovereign and three small gems from the collection he had acquired on Earth, then touched his communicator.

Colonel Samuels to Lieutenant Paris.

Paris here Colonel, what can I do for you?

When you have a couple of minutes, could you pay me a visit in the Science Lab, please? He asked gently.

Sure, what's up? Came the curious reply.

I'll let you decide when you get here, he replied cryptically.

I'll come now, Tom Paris announced quickly, If the Commander will permit me.

On the Bridge he looked at Commander Chakotay questioningly. The Commander nodded his approval, though he too was in the dark, but guessed that the Colonel was upto something that would undoubtedly help with the Captain's problems.

Released from the Pilots seat Tom hurried to the Science Lab to meet the Colonel. He entered the door almost at the run, to be brought up short by the Colonel's first question.

How much do you want to continue to enjoy Lieutenant Torres's affections? He asked bluntly.

I don't know! He stammered, caught short by the question, 

Because she is as ready for you as she will ever be. All she needs is some sort of signal, the Colonel announced firmly. If you want to give her the signal, then I think I can help you. If not then you had better go to Engineering now and tell her so, it will be easier for everybody.

Tom Paris swallowed hard. What can I do?

I don't know how you work now, but in my time it was customary to offer a gift to impress the lady when proposing. I think I can help you with the gift, if you want?

Paris thought hard for a few minutes, head bowed in concentration. Finally he looked up, I don't know if I deserve her, but yes, it is time I made it official, he agreed.

No man ever fully deserves the affection of a woman, it is their prerogative to offer it and withdraw without reason to whoever they wish, the Colonel commented wryly. But are you sure? It will mean the end of your freedom, hanging up your philandering ways, the start of the sort of commitment that makes Star Fleet look like a voluntary charity? He probed hard, challenging the young Lieutenant to commit himself.

Yes, I'll do it! He announced firmly.

The Colonel smiled. Good, I won't feel so bad about the speed of my relationship with Miss Nine now. But I warn you, if you go back on your word, it will be a race between Lieutenant Torres and me to see who can rip you in half first!

Again Tom Paris found himself swallowing hard. What do you suggest I do now? He asked quietly.

The Colonel pointed to the bench. On the bench there are a gold sovereign and a choice of small gems. If you wish, I can teach you how to make an engagement ring for Miss Torres, your personal gift to prove your pledge.

Tom approached the bench curiously and examined the contents. Where did you get the Sovereign and the gems? He asked wonderingly.

It's part of my retirement collection, the Colonel admitted.

That leather bag! But that's all your personal things, isn't it? Paris exclaimed, They're all the things you own! What about Seven's, won't you make one for her?

I think your needs are greater than mine, so take what you need. I've still got some left if and when I need it. I'm sure Her Majesty won't object to breaking her coin and I still have my silver shilling to prove my allegiance, The Colonel assured him. The coin has enough gold to make three rings, provided you don't go wild, an engagement ring and two wedding rings. Tradition has a large centre stone and a cluster of smaller stones around it, but as this is your first attempt I suggest keeping it simple, either a solitaire or perhaps a couple of flankers around a central stone.

From the small selection Tom Paris slid out a stone. This one! He claimed.

The Colonel nodded approvingly. A fire opal, very appropriate considering, but not the easiest to set. How about flanking it with these? He slid out six tiny stones, about 3mm diameter, they sparkled in the strong lights of the lab. I'm sorry I don't have enough for a proper nest, but I think you'll find it quite difficult enough and you'll have the cool of diamonds to grace the fire of the opal?

Tom Paris nodded nervously. What do I do now?

To start, put the stones in a bag and keep them safe. Then you carve a setting. I'll show you.

Tom did as was suggested then sat and watched as the Colonel sliced a lump of wax from a block. Don't worry about the band, we can fit that after you have a setting. You need to keep the wax at a working temperature, firm enough to carve, but that isn't difficult, this stuff doesn't melt in your hand like the Dopping wax I was taught to use, the Colonel announced, then proceeded to sketch out and demonstrate how to carve and shape the mounts for the stones using his fine wire tools and his pen knife.

Handing the wax block to Tom, he watched critically as he started to work the delicate material. Don't try and take too much at a time and remember you have seven stones to set next to each other. Take it with you and some of these tools and come back when you think you're nearly there, or get stuck. He suggested. You've plenty of time and if you really cockup there is plenty of wax.

Who taught you to do this sort of thing? Tom asked, realising that it wasn't going to be a simple task.

One of my men was a forger. He forged coins. He was also a superb goldsmith. I had him teach me, it was something to do on a humanitarian mission, the Colonel admitted. He was the one that first made a silver wreath, like the one you're wearing. Now if you'll excuse me, I've an appointment. He left Tom examining his wax block, wondering what he was going to do next.

  
  


The Colonel's appointment was as usual a lunch date with Seven of Nine. Less usual he took a packed lunch from the Mess and headed for his rendezvous in Astro metrics. He found her as he expected working at her console, she didn't turn as he entered, it surprised him a little.

Dinner is served, M'Lady, he announced cheerfully, laying out the picnic Neelix had prepared for them. I think Neelix thought we had a hot date on the holodeck, he said, examining a bottle of synthol wine and its content suspiciously. 

He tasted it. It's a good thing I'm not a connoisseur of wine, he grinned, It tastes like communion wine, too much blackcurrant.

Finally she did turn to face him, she looked pale and drawn, as though she had been fighting off the desire to cry. Immediately he left their lunch and moved to hold her.

It was difficult wasn't it, he consoled softly, I'm sorry you had to face the Captain alone, but you are the only person she will listen to at the moment.

He pulled her close, gently holding and stroking the back of her head as she laid it against his shoulder. You can let go now, he whispered.

She did so. I had a desire to strike at her, she sobbed. She claimed you had made me a clone of you. That my thoughts and opinions were all yours, that you put them there. Did you? She pleaded.

She made to bury her head in his shoulder again, afraid of the inevitably honest answer, but he stopped her, gently holding her chin up. I probably have to some extent, he admitted quietly. 

I've tried hard not to, deliberately leading you away at times and tried to make sure you had reasons for your decisions and beliefs. But it was inevitable you would collect some of mine, just as I've collected some of yours and for the same reasons. That is what love is all about, subconsciously changing ourselves and each other to suit, he tried to explain. If you believe I've deliberately tried to make you like me, then all I can do is say, I'm sorry,' and withdraw with as much grace as I can muster.

But if you're a clone of me then I must logically be a clone of you as well. Is it such a bad thing to be accused of, if you're really in love? 'I'm a clone of Miss Seven of Nine, the most wonderful woman in the Galaxy', with your permission I'd like it as part of my epitaph? He asked gently.

She pulled away and glared at him. You should not be so frivolous about such things, she scolded him coldly. I have considered the Captains statements. I believe she was in error. She also realised her mistake and claimed we made A perfect team,' because of the way in which we work together.

That is also true most of the time, he agreed with relief. But if you were teasing me just now, it was in poor taste. You are all I've got to hold onto in this galaxy, please don't scare me like that!

I wished to witness your reactions before I confirmed my opinions, she claimed calmly. They were as expected.

You know you can be a terrible woman at times? he chided gently, recovering some of his composure. There are times you are as delicate as a Chieftain Tank, even compared to me and I love you for it!

Their musings were interrupted by Chakotay over the intercom.

Colonel to the Bridge, immediate.

It looks as though it' s my turn to be in demand, he commented lightly, pecking her on the forehead. Try not to take everything the Captain says to heart, just at the moment. A lot of it she doesn't mean the way she says it. Think of what you went through with this, he tapped the implant at the base of his skull. He gave her another grin, grabbed a sandwich from Neelix' s picnic and stepped into the lift.

Seven of Nine, suddenly realising she was also hungry examined the spread. Some of it she could not identify, obviously concoctions that Neelix had prepared suitable for a hot date'. She made do with a simple sandwich and a glass of wine, before returning to her terminals.

  
  


The Colonel stepped off the turbo lift, slammed to attention and saluted in his customary single smooth action. Lieutenant Colonel Samuels, reporting as ordered, Sar!

When are you going to accept you are part of the ships crew and stop doing that? Sighed Chakotay from his seat, half turning to face the tall soldier.

When I'm forced into Star Fleet uniform, Sir, came his smooth reply.

Heaven forbid, Chakotay smiled, Nobody would survive that!

We've picked up a distress call from a vessel, he continued more seriously. We're on course to meet it, do you think it should be brought to the Captains attention?

It's your call, Sir. Nothing to do with me, the Colonel responded flatly.

But you don't think it wise? Chakotay persisted.

It's in the logs. If she wants to know what's going on she'll look, Sir, the Colonel opined. It strikes me you are performing as she would.

Chakotay nodded, appreciative of the Colonel's tacit approval. We'll be in range of their ship in about thirty minutes, will you meet them in Transporter Room 2 and give them the once over? They call themselves Cathors.

As you wish, Sir! The Colonel saluted and turned for the Turbo Lift again.

  
  


Six figures materialised on the transporter pad, to be met by the Colonel and two security guards. He saluted the figures as they stepped down.

Lieutenant Colonel Samuels at your service. It is my duty to welcome you aboard the Federation Star Ship Voyager, Sirs, he pronounced crisply, eyeing them carefully. All six were about medium height thick set humanoids. They wore white cassocks, under which he caught a glimpse of a metallic undersuit. It puzzled him, chain mail didn't seem quite right in space, even to him. 

The grey bearded lead figure examined the tall straight green clad soldier carefully. Finally deciding that he was acceptable he spoke imperiously. I am Galdor, First Knight of the Knights of Cathor. I thank you for rescuing us, there are however items aboard our ship we must remain in the possession of, this will be possible? He made it sound like a demand, it made the Colonel bristle.

If you can describe the items, Sir, then perhaps I can place your request with the Captain, the Colonel claimed unimpressed, the Knights voice grating at his patience.

If you are not the Commander of the vessel then who are you? Why do you carry the sword of command? Are you not a knight? Galdor demanded.

The Colonel felt for and gripped his sword protectively. I'm the chap who has detailed to greet you, Sir he replied evenly, As for the Sword, I've lived with and fought with it for more years than make sense, I'm not about to let it go. Now if you will be so kind as to follow me, I'll take you somewhere where you can refresh yourselves. So saying he headed for the door.

I must see your Captain immediately! Galdor demanded again, standing where he was.

The Colonel turned slowly, struggling with an urge to lash out at the imperious clown that seemed to be trying to order him around. I shall arrange that as well, Sir. Now please follow me, he hissed through clenched teeth.

He led them to a reception room and supplied them with food and drink, he noted that whilst the others took food, Galdor had not and was glaring at all and sundry. He left the room and turned to the security guards that had followed them. Knights or not, they ought to be a little more grateful, he commented quietly. Lock the door and don't let the bastards out until I return.

they replied in unision.

He made his way back to the Bridge. 

I know it's against all Star Fleet protocols, but I think we might have been better off leaving them to rot, Sir! He admitted to Commander Chakotay.

Their lead chap, Galdor, describes himself as Lead Knight of the Knights of Cathor, he is a nasty piece of work, he described. Keeps demanding that we should pull some stuff from their ship. I can't say anything for the others, they haven't said anything yet, they just seem to follow him.

Chakotay nodded, It seems reasonable, what does he want us to fetch?

I don't think he wants to tell a minion, Sir. He wishes to speak to you, I suspect literally, the Colonel predicted.

Chakotay sighed, Okay, bring them up to the Conference Room, I'll talk to them, he agreed. Bring the Security detail.

The Colonel responded and turned for the lift.

  
  


The Commander will see you now, Sir! He announced as he re-entered the room in which the six knights sat. 

That is your Captain? Galdor demanded.

It is our acting Captain, the Colonel agreed. Our Captain is indisposed at present, the Commander acts on her behalf.

Not acceptable. I must speak with the Captain, Galdor demanded.

That is not possible, Sir. You will see the Commander or no one. The Colonel insisted. He turned to square up to Galdor. For two minutes they glared into each others eye's, each seeking to break the others stare. It was the red eyes of Galdor that broke their gaze from the steel grey of the Colonel's first.

Very well, Galdor snorted, But this is an insult to the Knights of Cathor.

Objection noted, Sir, the Colonel agreed amiably, glad that the match hadn't continued any longer, his eye's had started to water as well during the contest. It had been a close run thing. If you will follow me?

They followed him in silence to the Conference Room.

First Knight Galdor of the Knights of Cathor, Sir. Commander Chakotay, Sir, he introduced them formally in the Conference Room, then took station in the unusual position near the wall opposite Galdors position.

Chakotay noticed with some alarm that the Colonel was gripping his sword. Brushing his concerns away for the time being he turned to the knight. On this ship we generally welcome guests as friends, the Colonel is one of our best friends, please remember that, he commented mildly. 

He continued more sharply. What happened to your ship?

We were set upon by hostile ships. We destroyed six of the eight, but were disabled in combat the other two fled.

Is this a hostile part of space? We havn't detected any other ships in twenty light years and there does not appear to be any debris, Chakotay queried. When were you attacked?

Three weeks ago, as I said the remaining vessels fled.

Strange, we should pick up something even after that much time, Chakotay mused.

The Colonel says you would like us to pick up some equipment from your vessel. What is it? He asked quietly.

The nature of the equipment is not relevant. I must insist on it being brought to your ship and have it powered, Galdor demanded noisily.

I can't bring it aboard if it could be a danger to the ship, Chakotay pointed out reasonably.

It is sensor equipment to aid our quest, Galdor admitted reluctantly.

Quest for what?

That is not relevant. You will collect the equipment and follow it's directions, Galdor demanded.

I can't bow to threats or commands like that, Chakotay snapped. We have rescued you from a failing vessel, we can take you to an inhabited planet, there perhaps, you can negotiate for a vessel to allow you to continue your Quest'. But I'm not going to wander of on something different to our own quest.

Galdor reacted immediately leaping from his seat and a long shimmer of light appeared in his hand, a laser sword. You will do as I demand or we will take your vessel from you! He screamed, lunging at Chakotay with it. He sat rooted to his chair in shock.

As quick as Galdor had acted, the Colonel, who had been watching him closely, reacted as quickly. The moment he saw the stocky knight move, he drew his blade and was moving towards the table. He slammed the flat of his blade down hard on the knights wrist, slamming both wrist and sword to the table and pinning it there.

Let go of the toy and ask your friends to do the same with theirs, he hissed dangerously.

You have struck a Knight of Cathor. The punishment is death, Galdor screamed, trying to lever his wrist from under the steel of the Colonels blade.

As you are still standing and complaining, I can assure you I haven't struck anybody yet, the Colonel assured him, his voice quiet and dangerous.

"Security to the Conference Room," one of the two guards started to talk into his comm badge, before he was brought short by a knight placing a knife at his throat.

You, a weakling, are challenging me? Galdor shrieked. You are no match for us.

The Colonel smiled coldly, baring his teeth. I'm not challenging you or anybody else. I'm simply doing my duty, don't try and test me for how far I'm prepared to go, you won't like the answer," he growled. "Release your weapon, slowly, Have your chaps drop their weapons, then I'll let you up."

With a sudden thrust from his free hand Galdor shoved the Colonel away, then stood challenging the small Star Fleet complement. "It is time to put your sword down," Galdor challenged the Colonel sharply.

Watching him carefully the Colonel walked slowly around the table, sliding his sword into his scabbard. He passed the knight holding the Security Guard. As he did so another blade appeared in his hand, which he swung violently, burying it deep into the armpit of the knight. He screamed, dropping his knife, as the Colonel grabbed the damaged arm and swung him violently into the wall. He dropped to the deck senseless. He swung back again, his sword drawn again, crouching at the ready.

"I warned you Sir. I am not a knight, but I can and will fight to protect this ship and crew and I'm not put off by the sight and smell of blood. I urge you to drop your weapons now. I'm not in the mood to argue any further!" He growled. 

"Permission to engage the enemy with relevant force, Commander?" He added in the silence, as Galdor attempted to size him up.

Chakotay nodded, picking himself up off the floor, he had been shocked by Galdor's action and more than surprised at the speed of the Colonel's response, nor did he think the Colonel would take a lot of notice of his opinion if he didn't agree to his request. "Galdor, I'd do as the Colonel says. We've seen him take on seven times your number and come out almost unscathed, you've seen how quickly he can deal with your people. Surrender," He urged the bearded knight.

"I am First Knight, I cannot be defeated!" Galdor crowed and lunged in the direction of the Colonel.

The Colonel was expecting it and stepped aside as he lunged, bringing the pommel of his own sword around to strike him in the chest. 

Recovering they turned to face each other again, menacing each other with their respective blades. 

The bystanders, knights and Star Fleet alike, pulled back as far as they could, watched in a mixture of fear and fascination, as the two protagonists circled each other.

The Colonel stopped moving, but continued to watch Galdor step sideways to attempt to gain an advantage. He was a concerned at the possible reaction if his all too real steel blade met the energy blade of his opponent, he suspected that it would not come out well. He made to test his supposition by feinting clumsily to the right. Galdor easily parried the blow, but not before the Colonel managed to withdraw the blade enough so that only the tip was caught by the blade. The result was not as he had expected, the steel blade was not visibly effected, but an electric shock sent a jolt of pain screaming up his arm, almost numbing it. It was all he could do to prevent himself screaming in pain, as Galdor took a swing at him, forcing him to parry hard and another bolt travelled up the arm. He let the two blades slide along each other as he closed the distance between them and punched Galdor in the face, leaping back before he could retaliate. He was rewarded as blood spurted from his nose.

The blow did not seem to slow Galdor, he came forward again, swinging his sword in an attempt to cut his fighting foe in half. Again the Colonel parried the blow, stepping back quickly. This time he hardly felt the pain as he felt the familiar rush of adrenaline start to surge through him. He feinted to swing from the right again, allowing his opponent to swing his blade up to meet it, then turned his blade under his opponents'. It ripped into the material of the habit, but was checked by the armour underneath. It didn't worry him, it was the first point scored. The final blow would have to be a lunge to penetrate the armour, he reasoned clinically. 

He kept up the impetuous, pushing his enemy back by a rapid series of swings, swipes and rapier fast thrusts and parries as his opponent tried to check his advance. He didn't seem to notice another security detail enter the room and join the spectators.

Galdor found himself beside the door, a female security guard standing in front of it, her weapon poised nervously, unsure as to who to shoot. He grabbed at her and sent her flying towards the Colonel, who was approaching for another lunge. Desperately he turned his blade to one side to avoid her, but was unable to prevent her physically slamming into him, forcing him to struggle to keep his balance.

Galdor sensing an advantage dived forward as the Colonel pushed the young woman aside. Too late to attempt to parry, he desperately tried to fling himself aside from the oncoming energy blade, but felt the searing pain from his side as it penetrated his uniform.

If Galdor had expected his wounded foe to start to fight defensively, he was badly mistaken. The wound seemed to inflame him to new levels of effort. Another series of rapid swings, lunges and feints emanated from him, that had Galdor desperately parrying and backing away again. He tried to lunge himself, but found the Colonel leaping past his blade and smashing his fist into his face again, the half guard from the handle gouging into his face as he staggered drunkenly away, missing the chance to slice through his opponents side as he leapt back again. Again the Colonel advanced, pushing Galdor back through the door onto the Bridge. 

Reasoning he had to try another attack if he was to have any chance to defeat this obviously mad green clad human, he picked an opportunity where the Colonel was swinging the blade, to attempt a lunge himself. Amazingly the Colonel didn't seem to try to get out the way, but seemingly managed to checked his swing and brought his blade out in front of him, pushing forward with it as Galdor thrust forwards. Too late Galdor realised his mistake, his desperate thrust would strike home, but the mad human was prepared to take it, in exchange for the wound he was going to inflict. Desperately he tried to throw himself aside, but the Colonels blade followed him. His own blade deflected by his attempt to change direction, buried itself into the Colonels shoulder. The Colonels blade pierced his stomach, with him screaming in a mixture of pain from his wound and victory as he twisted the sword viciously before withdrawing.

Galdor collapsed immediately, dragging his sword out from the Colonels shoulder as he did so. The Colonel kicked it away, then returned to the Conference Room, clutching his shoulder as he did so.

"Anybody else want to be obstructive or rude?" He hissed in defiance.

His question was met by numb faces and a clattering of weapons as they were discarded. The Knights of Cathor were known throughout the Quadrant as noble and effective fighters, capable of taking on many foes in close combat. Now they had met one who knew how to fight their sort of combat and win against their greatest swordsman. As a man they bowed deeply to him. One of the Knights announced, "We accept your rulings. Hail, Master of Cathor!"

"Bugger off!" The Colonel hissed, "I'm nobody's master, just a soldier doing my duty."

He turned to Chakotay, "I apologise, Sir. He would not surrender. With your permission, I'd like to pay a visit to the Doctor? I don't think these chaps will be a problem anymore."

Finding his voice at last, Chakotay nodded. "Carry on Colonel, I'll get Seven to tell you off for that stunt, you're more likely to listen to her. Tuvok, restrain these 'Gentlemen' and take them to the Brig. I'll decide what to do with them later."

"Commander!" Tuvok acknowledged, producing restraints. 

  
  


Your action was foolish. Your action could have led to your death! Seven of Nine admonished the Colonel severely, as the Doctor finished running a regenerator across the Colonel's shoulder.

He was going to prove stronger than me in the end, the Colonel commented, That energy sword was killing my arm of in degrees, I wouldn't have lasted much longer. I had to lead him into a mistake, otherwise we'd all be minions to these Knights'. Do you know anything of them?

They are religious fanatics. The Borg have no designation for them, they are small in number and unsuitable as drones, she recited.

That follows, the Colonel agreed thoughtfully. But why decide I'm to be their 

They believe themselves to be undefeatable in combat. You defeated their leader, you must logically be stronger than them, so they have taken you as leader, she said calmly.

So, other than dying, how do I get out of it? He asked brightly.

You cannot. They will follow you, she responded bluntly.

They were joined by Tuvok. The Knights have taken you as their leader, perhaps you should interrogate them? He suggested impassively.

I'll chat to them a little later, the Colonel agreed. After feelings have cooled?

Very well, I shall inform the Commander, Tuvok said stiffly and walked away.

  
  


An hour later the Colonel, Chakotay and Tuvok convened in the Brig. He picked up one of the weapons that had been taken from their prisoners and entered the cell holding the youngest. He looked about thirty-five a small and downy blond beard was starting to show on his otherwise youthful face.

I assume a beard is a token of wisdom for your people? He asked the young man casually, examining the weapon.

Yes Master.

I haven't worn a beard in my life, I don't suit them, he admitted lightly. It won't suit you either. I suggest you give up on it until your hair goes grey like the others. Don't think it brings wisdom either, Galdor proved the lie in that.

What is your name, Son? He asked gently.

The knight eyed the weapon the Colonel was toying with uneasily. I am Paul Sant, Master Junior Knight of the Gathor, he replied nervously.

The Colonel nodded. Well Mister Sant, if you want to stay on the right side of me, stop calling me Master? I am Colonel Samuels, you may address me as Colonel or Sir! He suggested, I've no intention of joining you or your religion and I suspect that you won't want to follow me or mine either.

Paul Sant nodded and whispered dumbly, 

The Colonel appeared not to hear him, he was studying the buttons on the handle he was holding. This toy has other uses than a sword, hasn't it? He asked. Care to tell me what they are?

Yes, Sir! Paul Sant replied immediately. It is our weapon and tool. It has settings to project an energy bolt over long distances, a surgical knife and sabre, torch, cook food, anything we need.

He pressed a button and the Sabre leapt into existence, followed by an energy bolt as he touched another one. The Bolt crashed against the wall beside the Knight, causing him to duck impulsively. 

I'm most dreadfully sorry," he apologised. "But I do like toys, but not too good with them! Perhaps you will teach me how it works at some point? Guiltily he laid it down between them.

Yes, Sir! Paul Sant announced with relief.

Would you care to tell me and my colleagues outside just who you are and what happened exactly? For instance you weren't attacked anytime recently were you? It was more through your own efforts that you were in distress wasn't it? He challenged.

It is a complicated story, admitted Paul Sant, eyeing the sword and the Colonel carefully.

The Colonel noticed his glances. Don't even think of trying to reach it, Mr Sant, he suggested quietly, resting on the cells drop down table. You will be dead before you got halfway. Cooperate properly, and perhaps I can give it back to you along with what we call parole', you will be allowed to walk around the ship in the company of security personnel. It isn't ideal, but it would be a start.

Paul Sant, looking the tall human square in the eye, seeing nothing but determination and honesty there, started his story.

Several millennium ago our race found a weapon. It was the ultimate weapon, it would create fear in the hearts of our enemies and they would destroy themselves. But it was terribly dangerous, it acted upon us as well. It is said many Cathorians died when it was tested, he looked for understanding from the Colonel.

He nodded, It is claimed that my race had a similar weapon, called the Jerricoh Trumpet. As I recall it had a similar effect on it's creators, so they destroyed it. Why didn't your people?

We couldn't. It was too powerful, Sant exclaimed. It was based around four crystals, they were different colours, red, blue, yellow and green. So we split them apart, we didn't realise the effects that each crystal had by themselves, until too late.

What effects? Radiation? Poison? The Colonel prompted.

Nothing like that but more deadly, Sant admitted. Each crystal has it's own resonant broadcast frequency that effects the minds of living beings, it makes them change their character and destroy themselves. A brave man could become a craven coward, a happy man so depressed that he kills himself, always a change for the worse.

So they were split apart, what next? The Colonel prompted.

We sent two of the crystals into space, aiming them for the sun. But they were intercepted by a a cuboid spaceship, of the like we have never seen.

The Colonel's eyebrows shot up in surprise. Commander Tuvok do you have an image of a Borg Cube? He asked sharply.

Tuvok asked curiously.

Oh, just a little history being snapped into place, the Colonel suggested. Borg history I suspect! If you could provide the requested item?

I'm sorry for interrupting you, Mr Sant. Pray continue, whilst we wait for Commander Tuvok.

Our astronomers watched the vessel leave our system until it couldn't be seen any longer, fearing the worst. All they saw was a flash as it exploded. Sant continued dutifully. It was decided that it was too dangerous to send anymore out into space, because of what happened, so they gathered together a body of the finest priests to form a Knighthood, who's task was to guard the stones and seek out the remains of the two that were lost. A great ship was built to carry them on their quest and the two remaining stones put with them.

If they're so powerful, why put them together? The Colonel interrupted.

If the stones are together, they are comparatively inert and require energy to release their powers. But when they are powered they are many times stronger than when they are on their own, and can be focused, Sant explained.

They found one of the crystals quickly, in less than one hundred years, but the fourth we have been chasing for over a millennium. It is the smallest and most powerful, but we were closing on it. We detected a power surge from it less than a day ago in this sector. That was part of the reason Galdor wanted our sensors aboard your ship!

Alarm bells started to ring loudly in the Colonel's mind. Your last sensor detection, was it about eighteen hours ago? He asked urgently.

Sant replied in surprise.

The Colonel shot a glance at Chakotay, who nodded that the significance of the event had not passed him by.

Can the effects of this crystal be reversed? He asked.

I don't know! Sant replied nervous again at the questioning, Gwyndal may know. Why?

Again the Colonel looked towards the Commander. May I tell him, Sir?

Chakotay nodded his acceptance.

At some point this morning our Captain suffered a severe mood swing, she is systematically giving up on everything she believes in. Would that be atypical of your crystal? He asked quietly.

It could be, Sant admitted. The severity of the effect depends upon the mind they are acting upon.

I think we may well bring you equipment aboard, the Colonel confessed, How big is this stone you are looking for?

I've never seen it, but it is very small, about 25mm in diameter, confessed Sant.

Breathed the Colonel, Talk of needles in a haystack. Do any of your people know enough science to explain what this thing uses for a broadcast, we may be able to enhance our own sensors?

Sant nodded, I can do that, he offered.

Good. Now you say it was only part of Galdor's reasoning to bring his equipment. What was the main one?

He handled a crystal, Sant announced. He was the Second Knight, he started to covet the red crystal, then the blue. They started to affect him and he challenged and killed the First, but the fight disabled our ship.

What happens if all four crystals are brought together again?

We will assemble them, then find a way to destroy them properly, announced Sant promptly.

You hope? The Colonel suggested mildly, "Your friends may think differently when they are in their hands.".

Tuvok returned and handed the Colonel a holo image maker. Do you know what this ship that stole the two crystals looked like? Did it look like this? He asked gently, handing the holo imager to Paul Sant.

He caught his breath sharply. Yes, that's it. Who are they? He exclaimed.

They call themselves the Borg now, the Colonel explained. I suspect your race may be guilty of a far more heinous crime than creating a weapon you couldn't control, everybody seems to achieve that, sooner or later. You may be guilty of creating what must be one of the most unpleasant races in the Galaxy as well!

"In the mean time I thank you for your candidness. If you will excuse me, I'll talk to the Commander and see if he is prepared to accept your statements and your offer of assistance." He saluted the knight and left to form an impromptu discussion with the Commander and Tuvok.

"Do you believe him?" Chakotay asked immediately.

"The story is a little too 'Swords and Sourcery' for my personal tastes, Sir," the Colonel admitted. "But I don't believe in Science particularly either, scientists rarely seem to have much control over their inventions. I think he was being honest to the best of his ability. Commander?"

"I am in agreement with your summary," Tuvok agreed. "Why did you wish for an image of a Borg vessel?"

"The Borg had to have a creator of some sort," the Colonel pointed out. "Miss Nine does not know their home race, but does know of the knights. From your records the Borg don't appear to have a core race to draw their numbers from, so they must have been some form of advanced race before they became what they are. These crystals may have been a catalyst. I'm sure you could provide a workable hypothesis of how?"

"And this green crystals relationship to the Captain?"

"You heard him, the crystal did what ever it does at about the same time the Captain broke, you work out the probabilities. I think we are going to need their help and equipment, Sir?" The Colonel suggested. 

"If you're worried about them and their security, I'll take care of them?" He offered.

"Agreed," Chakotay responded readily. "If they are prepared to accept our authority, then they can be released."

"Sir!"

The Colonel turned back to the cells. "You heard the Commander, if you are prepared to swear acceptance of his authority, then I can release you. If you do so and break your word, then none of you will end up here again, I'll see to that," he warned.

Paul Sant was the first to stand. "I pledge to follow your commands Sir!" He declared.

"I'm not asking you to declare for me," the Colonel pointed out. "Your pledge goes to the Captain of this ship, is that acceptable?"

Sant considered the question, then looked up. "Yes Sir! If I am under your command."

The Colonel shot a glance at Chakotay, who nodded his agreement. The Colonel silently released the forcefield and handed the young knight his weapon.

"Anybody else?" He queried, turning to the other captives. "You Sir?" He asked a burly dark bearded knight. It was the Knight he had attacked earlier.

The knight bowed to him. "I am Gwyndal, the Second Knight. I will serve you," he declared.

"Good. I think you could be invaluable. Anymore?" The Colonel declared, releasing his door.

One by one the rest of the knights stepped to the front of their cells and vowed their service.

"Excellent," the Colonel enthused. "I'm afraid these will have to serve as living quarters for the time being, until we can arrange something more suitable. In the mean time let us have a look at your equipment and these damned crystals, then we can start looking for your needle."

  
  


Two hours later, Chakotay, Tuvok, Torres, Seven of Nine and the Colonel were standing in Cargo Bay 1 looking at the pile of equipment beamed aboard from the Cathorian ship.

"How long to assemble what is needed?" Chakotay asked.

"We can rebuild the equipment in ten hours," Paul Sant announced. "It will be ready to accept power tomorrow morning."

Is that acceptable to you, B'Elanna?

she agreed casually, examining parts with professional interest.

Where are the crystals you have? The Colonel asked. May we be permitted to examine them?

They are kept in the casket by the wall, Gwyndal informed them. It is dangerous to look at them without training.

Then how do you know they are still there? The Colonel protested. You've already admitted that one of your number removed one to handle, are you sure he put it back? You are also going to need us to help destroy them when we find the last one.

The knights looked at each other uncertainly. We have not checked, Sir! Paul Sant admitted at last, Only the First Knight is permitted to view them.

You what! The Colonel exploded in a mixture of anger and exasperation. Somebody has rifled through a strong box illegally and you haven't checked to see if anything is missing? You're either incompetent or stupid! Commander Tuvok would you care to examine their box and its contents? Then we can find somewhere where they will be safe!

But it is not safe! Argued Gwyndal hotly.

Nor is leaving them with you! The Colonel answered bluntly. I'd put a lot more faith in the Commander's Vulcan mind control techniques than religion.

Tuvok approached the casket carefully with his tri-corder active. There are no emissions from the box, he announced as he reached it. I shall have to open it.

Chakotay nodded his acceptance, whilst the Colonel subconciously gripped his weapons.

Pausing impressively, Tuvok lifted the lid off the casket and peered in. To the watchers it appeared to be an anti-climax, nothing happened, no flash of light and Tuvok didn't go instantly mad. Instead he commented impassively, "There are three crystals, in order of size they appear red, blue and yellow, a fourth space exists for a small stone. There are some weak signals showing on the tri-corder, however I am unable to ascertain their composition."

"Are you sure they are your stones?" The Colonel asked pointedly of Gwyndal. "Not replica's?"

Gwyndal moved forward as did the rest of the crew, craning for a better view.

He looked them over carefully, "They are the crystals," He said simply. "They do not show any form of power reading unless they are activated. That is what makes them dangerous."

"Then what activates them?" B'Elanna asked curiously.

"We think they are triggered by thoughts. Certain thoughts give off an energy wave that is caught by the crystals and they magnify them and send them back, reinforcing the thought."

"So if I thought at them I should fall madly in love with the Colonel, they would broadcast back at me and I would be?"

"They don't work like that!" Gwyndal protested. 

"They work on the subconcious level, particularly when the victim is asleep, and take negative thoughts," he explained. "Each crystal takes in a particular range of thought waves and responds accordingly."

"Typically, what thoughts does the green one use?" The Colonel asked carefully.

"Any feeling of failure, that is why it is the most dangerous, it reinforces the feeling that the others create."

"How?"

Gwyndal sighed. "I'll try to explain," he said. "The red crystal usually acts on feelings of missed opportunity, the yellow on guilt, blue on desire. If any of those feelings is heightened to extreme levels then the victim starts to feel as though they have failed, even if they didn't feel as though they had failed before. Each crystal amplifies those feelings a thousand fold and they then feed each other using the green crystal as a catalyst."

"I think I can see how it works. It amplifies things until the only way out is to destroy yourself," the Colonel suggested. "Is there a way to stop it working?"

"You must hold the crystal that caused the last amplification," Gwyndal responded quietly. "But hold the wrong one, or holding the right one for too long, would have catastrophic consequences. It is almost impossible to treat."

Chakotay and the Colonel looked at each other sharply, their hopes for a cure for the Captain seemingly dashed.

Finally the Colonel spoke up, "Please, carry on with your work. Mr Sant would you help Miss Nine and Lieutenant Torres to calibrate our sensor system to help find the missing stone. I'll arrange for refreshments to be sent down to you at suitable times." He turned and dragged Commander Chakotay out the cargo bay with him, Tuvok following them.

"How do you want to play this, Sir?" He questioned as the door closed behind them. "If the Captain had suffered a simple breakdown I'm fairly certain we could have affected a treatment, in time. But with an external source and an obscure one at that, I'm not sure what we can achieve."

"What do you suggest?" Chakotay asked hopefully.

"I've nothing to suggest," the Colonel admitted. "I've met brainwashing before, but this is way outside my experience." 

"Commander Tuvok, if we could get the to Captain agree to a mind meld could you rummage around for a few clues?" he asked.

"The term 'rummage around' is inappropriate," Tuvok protested. "However given the seriousness of the situation it may be possible to carry out an investigation."

The Colonel turned back to Chakotay. "I think it might be nearly time to get the Captain involved. I think it might be your turn to talk to the Captain, Sir! Today is you normal diner date isn't it?"

Cahotay sighed. Do you really know what everybody on the ship is doing or going to do? He queried quietly.

No Sir, he assured him with a smile. Only the important players, Senior Officers and the ones responsible for making the ship work.

What do you want me to do? Chakotay sighed in resignation.

  
  


"Kathryn?" Chakotay called, as he entered Captain Janeway's quarters.

Kathryn Janeway looked up from the book she was seemingly engrossed with. "What do you want?" She demanded tiredly. "If you're here under the Colonel's instruction, then go away!"

"It's our regular dinner date, remember?" Chakotay pointed out. "These, however are the Colonel's idea," he presented her with a box.

She took it cautiously, and removed the lid to uncover chocolates. Fleetingly a smile flashed across her face. "I bet they are all my favourite centres as well!" She remarked.

"Nougats and caramels, yes," he agreed. "As for tonights dinner, I thought we could go to the holodecks, for a night on the town?" He suggested.

"Where?" She demanded guardedly.

"There was a little restaurant outside the Academy, you remember? Served French cuisine?"

"Jean Paul's. I remember, I've not been their since.." She broke off suddenly, remembering.

"Since when?" Chakotay prompted gently.

"Since my last dinner on Earth, before I took command of Voyager," she admitted. "I was with Mark, he promised to wait for me to return!" She added despondently.

"Well, I don't have to wait!" Chakotay intercepted smoothly. "May I escort you?"

She smiled suddenly, "I don't suppose it matters much anymore!" She confessed, then added despondently, "I'm not going to see the results."

With some difficulty, Chakotay hid the alarm he was feeling at the Captains resignation. "May I take your arm?" He offered optimistically.

She sighed deeply. "I suppose it won't harm anything, to have a last night out. Your not going to try and persuade me to do anything?" She asked nervously biting her lip.

If you've made up your mind, then I know I'll never be able to change it again, Chakotay admitted freely. Taking her arm he escorted her from the room.

  
  


Chakotay was working hard to follow the Colonel's recommendations and advice, to keep the Captain talking without mentioning the ship. He was running out of ideas and they were almost through the final coffee, but she was responding to his questions and he was, to his surprise, finding out a lot more than he had ever dreamed of learning about his Captain's personal life before Voyager. He was even finding some common causes in their early lives, as they had described them to each other, even though they had reacted differently, something he had never considered before. 

He was starting to realise just how and why the Colonel put so much more store in listening to people rather than talking. How the Captain was speaking also seemed to convey as much as what she was saying.

She had started off speaking sadly as she described her sister and the scrapes they had got themselves into in their childhood rivalry, gained in strength as she explained her pride of having been accepted by Star Fleet. The bitterness she had felt as she had been rejected for some insignificant science post. Under the voice though, there was still the signs of desperation that she was feeling for her and the ships current plight. Despite himself he found himself reaching for the Captains hand.

Finally she got bored with reminiscing and asked, What have you been doing today?

Chakotay sat up sharply, unsure of how he should respond. We picked up the crew of a distressed ship, he admitted guardedly.

She asked.

he agreed. They'd lost power and life support. Turns out they are knights on a quest.

A quest for what? She was starting to sound genuinely interested.

A crystal they created and lost several millennium ago. It seems it affects peoples emotions. They want to find it and destroy it. As they were going our way, I've agreed to help them for a while.

She said losing interest again. Thank you for dinner, I have enjoyed it. But tell the Colonel I've still not changed my mind. For the first time she actually smiled. Chakotay's heart soared in hope.

He took her arm again and escorted her to her quarters. Then dared himself to kiss her goodnight. She accepted it, even, he fancied, allowed it to linger just a little longer than a normal peck.

I still care for you Kathryn, he managed to say before the door closed between them.

With some satisfaction he turned and touched his communicator, Computer, locate Colonel Samuels.

  
  


He found him as the computer had reported in the Science Labs, still working.

I thought you'd be watching the Cathors? He said reproachfully as he entered.

There's no need, Sir, the Colonel said, smiling disarmingly. Miss Nine and Lieutenant Torres are with them and they have given their word. But I suspect it would be wise to pull them out soon, I know the crystals aren't supposed to have an effect on conscious people, but they must be getting pretty tired by now! How did dinner go?

Very well, I think, Chakotay started, then explained the events.

When he finished the Colonel pondered his comments carefully. The good news, Commander, is I have a gold sovereign to make rings for you and the Captain, when you want them! I hope you'll let me make them for you? He said brightly.

What makes you so sure we're going to need them? Chakotay asked in surprise.

Because she's told you her life story and you're here telling me only the barest detail. So it's not duty that allowed you to carry out your part of the plot. You still have a strong enough regard for her to protect her and not tell me everything.

Chakotay blushed deeply. And the bad news?

The Captain thinks we're conspiring to persuade her to remain the Captain and thinks I'm the architect. She's right of course, but it is a pity she managed to work it out so quickly.

So what happens now?

I don't know! The Colonel admitted. I'm hoping, I'll get the summons and told to stop interfering with her ship. Otherwise it's more of the same.

  
  


In the Cargo Bay the Seven of Nine and Paul Sant stood back to view the equipment that the Cathors had reassembled.

"Describe it function!" Seven of Nine demanded.

"It is an ultra sensitive EMF detector," Sant started. "It is tuned to receive the signals provided by the stone."

"It does not detect the stone itself?"

"We have never found a way of tracing the stone, only it's affects. That's how we've been able to follow it," Paul Sant admitted unhappily.

"How would you know if the crystal is within reach?" B'Elanna asked curiously.

"We would have to wait to see if one of us was affected!" Sant explained, now very unhappy.

"Your solution is dangerously flawed," Seven of Nine complained. "There must be a method of detecting the crystal without putting the crew at risk."

"The frequencies you require for solid scans are too small to carry and will detect too much irrelevant material. Nor do we know which way the crystal is travelling so we will be unable to cover sufficient area to find it." Sant pointed out.

"How often are the affects detected?" She demanded.

"It depends what it comes in contact with, your Captain was the first one in several years."

"The time scales are unacceptable," Seven stated, there was a distinct frost forming in the air between them. "There must be another way! What frequencies does it respond to? Perhaps we can activate it prematurely?"

The frequencies to activate it are too low, they would get lost in the space clutter, and the wave pattern is too erratic to replicate efficiently.

A tacion stream can be created that would not get lost, but could still have an ultra low carrier in sub-space?

The crystal is inert to tacion streams.

Maybe we ought to think of this problem in a different way?" Suggested the Colonel quietly, joining the discussion and intercepting the argument before it got out of hand.

Seven queried coldly.

Perhaps the solution isn't so much technical, but physical?

Your meaning?

The stone isn't very large and it is simply drifting through space. If I remember your astronomical training, it would simply drift towards the nearest large gravity source? The Colonel offered.

So the crystal will be moving towards the nearest planetary system, Seven claimed. The cogs in her mind started to clink into gear. As we approach the crystal Voyager would become a gravity source and the crystal could be drawn to it.

I can intensify structural integrity to give the ship the effective mass of a small moon? B'Elanna offered.

"It could be intensified further by extending the force field around the shuttles," Seven added.

"It sounds effective," agreed Paul Sant. "But which way should we go?"

I will conduct an Astrometrics scan for the greatest gravitational influence, affirmed Seven. 

"Okay you have a way of chasing the crystal," the Colonel intercepted again. "But how will you know we have it amongst the other junk we are going to collect? Being blitzed with negative thoughts is not my idea of fun!"

We shall have to find an activation frequency for the crystal. We will need to test the other crystals for the correct dynamics range. Seven informed him.

"Be careful with them!" the Colonel whispered as she passed him enroute for the door. "They could be dangerous if you get it wrong!"

"I have no intention of 'getting it wrong'," she assured him, gently pecking him on the cheek.

The Colojel nodded his agreement. "I'll have them taken down to Engineering for you and Lieutenant Torres to play with. But don't forget to get some rest." he agreed. 

She continued for the door.

"Janeway to Colonel Samuels!" His comms badge bleeped twenty minutes later.

"Colonel Samuels, Ma'am!" He intoned opening the link.

"Would you come to my quarters, please?" The request was tinged with nervousness.

"Aye, Ma'am!" He replied smartly, closing the link again.

He turned to Gwyndal. "Mr Gwyndal. I have another duty to perform, please escort your crystals to Engineering and look after them. Make sure nobody comes to any harm because of them," he tasked the elderly knight, then made for the door.

"Sir!"

  
  


The Colonel chimed the Captains door and waited patiently for permission to enter. It came quickly and he stepped through, coming to attention as he always did in the Captains presence.

"Please, don't be so formal! Can't we just be friends?" She pleaded. "I'm off duty and could be a 'civilian' by the morning."

"All the more reason to remain courteous, Ma'am," the Colonel intoned crisply. "Soldiers are never the most popular of life forms, so as a civilian I would have no other form of address. As for friends, I rather hoped we were, Ma'am?"

She let the matter drop for the time being. "I've looked up your Voltaire," she announced. "He was quite a humorist wasn't he?"

"So I believe, Ma'am. As I said I've never actually read his books, I relied on the chap who did for his opinion. I have sufficient difficulties understanding English," the Colonel admitted.

"You haven't read it yet you believed the book may help me?" She queried curiously.

He grinned sheepishly. "I trust the opinions of my men in their subjects. Critiques of literature was right up Corporal Harris's street."

"Your definitions of a commander again?"

"Of course, Ma'am!" He responded automatically. "There is only so much we can learn for ourselves, then we have to rely on others."

"Like you say I should?"

"Yes!" He agreed readily. "In my opinion you are a brilliant ships captain, but you would not be my first choice for keeping our engines working. Your an excellent explorer, but I'd not put you on the front line of a battlefield."

"And you what is your field of expertise?"

"I'm an officer in Her Majesties Army. I am the ideal person for digging the trenches, keeping the troops together in an orderly fashion and stand straight for use as a target. That is what I was trained for and what I'm good at," he claimed amiably.

She laughed, it was an easy laugh, the first for some time. "You're a lot more than that, Alan. You know people better than anybody I've met, you press their buttons in a way that makes them do as you want willingly. You did it with Seven and you've done it with Chakotay. It's something I'm only just getting to grips with but I'm going to find how you do it!" She vowed.

"I sincerely hope you don't think that! Ma'am!" he responded in horror. "Especially with Miss Nine! I was hoping to ask your permission to propose to her, but if you think that way then I'll arrange to leave the ship right now, because I'm a danger to her!" 

"You do!" She started hotly, then the enormity of the Colonel's last statement hit her like a derailed express train. She stared at him dumbfounded for a moment then collapsed into a chair.

"What did you say?" She spluttered at last.

"I'll arrange to leave the ship?" He offered innocently.

"Before that?" She demanded. "About proposing to Seven?"

"I was hoping, in the near future, to ask for your permission to ask Miss Seven of Nine for her hand in marriage, Ma'am! Regulation demands that I must ask the permission of both Commanding Officers and her guardian. You currently fit the bill on all three accounts."

"If I wasn't the Captain who would you ask?" She queried fighting for time to think. Totally foxed by the change of events.

"The ships Captain as the Officer Commanding and you, Ma'am, as her guardian," he replied immediately.

"Why? When?" She asked quickly. "Do you think she will accept?"

"Why, because I love her deeply and she's the only thing I've got in this galaxy of value, Ma'am. When, after you've had sufficient opportunity to talk to her and decide if I would be a suitable match for her, remembering my propensity for getting hurt. As for acceptance, I don't know! If I was honest with myself I'd say, 'Not a hope in Hell', but I've lived there most of my life, so I know there is a chance."

"But as I'm a bad influence, then please forget I asked the question," he added. "I have no wish to embarrass anybody." 

"You had a reason for summoning me Ma'am?" He asked, attempting to change the subject.

"Just a minute. Please!" She begged. "Let me get my head around this. As I understand it, your first wife, Anneka, proposed to you, with your whole regiment there to witness it. Just how much more in love are you with Seven for you to volunteer? What can you offer her? Are you sure? She's not the easiest person in the galaxy to get on with, but you know that already?" The questions tumbled out of her.

"Yes, Ma'am! I'm sure," he admitted. "As sure as I've ever been in the past. But it's a question I don't think will ever occur to her. The only things I have to offer at the moment is love, protection and devotion, but I will add to that."

"Colonel to the Sickbay!" The panic stricken voice of Lieutenant Torres commanded over the intercom, frustrating the Captains next set of questions.

"What's up, Lieutenant?" He responded calmly to the hail.

"Seven! She collapsed in Engineering. A crystal flared! We don't know why!"

The Captain watched the colour drain from the Colonel's face as he went white with shock, then he seemed to sway and stagger drunkenly as he fought for breath.

"We're on our way!" the Captain intercepted the call smoothly, as the Colonel desperately balanced himself against a wall.

"Come on!" She hissed, taking his arm.

She found she had to both guide and support the suddenly dumbstruck and blind soldier down the corridors.

Arriving in Sick Bay the Colonel pushed blindly forward to where Seven of Nine lay unmoving on the couch. Ignoring the Doctors protests he picked her up and cradled her gently in his arms.

"Oh! You silly! Silly girl!" he cried, burying his head in her shoulder. "I told you to be careful with those damn things! now look at you!"

  
  


"What's going on?" The Captain demanded of Chakotay as he ran into sick bay. "Has this something to do with the Cathors and their crystals?"

"Yes, Kathryn," he admitted guiltily. He took her arm and gently led her from the room into the Doctors office. 

"We think the missing crystal is what has made you want to give up on everything you believe in. Seven was examining another one to find out how to detect it," he said keeping his voice low.

"Why wasn't I told?" She demanded.

"Would you have been interested? You were trying to abandon the ship and crew?" Chakotay responded tartly, a rare flash of anger showing. "Seven, like the rest of us, still think of you as the Captain and part of the ship. We are prepared to try anything to help and protect you!"

"But why? I've made so many mistakes?" She pleaded.

"Stop feeling sorry for yourself, Kathryn," Chakotay snapped. "Accept it, you are the Captain and you can't divorce yourself from it or us. You're proving that now, otherwise why are you here?"

She stared at him, shocked by the sharpness of his voice, he hadn't been so blunt and hostile for a long time.

"I'm sorry Kathryn, but it had to be said," he apologised more gently. "You still care for us, just as we care for you! And you are still the Captain!"

She nodded weakly, then seemed to gather strength as she turned for the door and the crew gathered around the Colonel and Seven of Nine.

"B'Elanna, what caused the 'flare' from the crystal?" She demanded strongly.

"I. I don't know!" B'Elanna stammered.

"Then find out! Now!" 

"Doctor, Seven's injuries, how bad are they?"

"Some internal burns. Some of her implants are damaged, but I don't know how long they'll take to repair. The Colonel won't let me near!" The Doctor complained.

"Colonel, let the Doctor examine Seven," She commanded.

He looked at her, his face haggard beyond description. She could see the tears clearly rolling down his face. "It's happening again, Ma'am," he whispered. "I just get to the point of accepting someone special, then something happens to them!"

She moved closer and in a fit of compassion she placed an arm around him. "Come on!" she encouraged, "She will be all right and so will you. Just let the Doctor treat her properly."

He nodded. He kissed the unconscious girl gently, then laid her back on the couch and allowed himself to be led away. As she passed him, the Doctor palmed her a hypospray, which she tucked quietly into her pocket.

She led him back to his quarters and persuaded him to lay on his cot, then injected him with the spray the Doctor had handed her. She waited for a few minutes to make sure the spray had done it's job and had really sent him to sleep, then let herself out again and returned to Sick Bay and waited for the Doctor's prognosis.

"As far as I can tell, she will be fine, Captain," he announced at last. "I've treated her internal injuries and her own probes are repairing her Borg implants. When she recovers she must spend at least 24 hours in regeneration."

"That's some good news, at least," she agreed thankfully. "What about these crystals and the Cathors? I want a full briefing in an hour!" She demanded turning back to Chakotay.

  
  


Chakotay brought the Paul Sant and Gwyndal with him to the Captain's briefing. Briefly they went over their history and the nature of the crystal they were hunting.

"You think that I am still under the influence of this crystal?" She asked quietly.

Gwyndal nodded. "Yes, it is possible Captain Janeway. Your recovery would be very unusual."

"And you think it can be treated with close contact?"

"It is the only way we know of," he agreed. "But it could be dangerous."

"Why did you use the Colonel's treatment methods instead of the Doctor's?"

"We didn't know about the crystal at the time," Chakotay put in immediately. "The Colonel thought you needed to come to a decision on your own, after talking to your friends. The Doctor admitted he had nothing better, so I decided that we would give it a try." 

"He was almost right," the Captain sighed. 

"I'd almost come to one, but it has taken the near death of a close friend and a good talking to from another to make it concrete."

"Now what happened in Engineering?"

"It was a total fluke, a million to one chance," B'Elanna announced.

The Captain looked at her sharply, "Tell that to Seven and the Colonel. She is in Sick bay and he thinks it is his fault!" She reprimanded. 

"I'm sorry, Captain," Said the much chastened Lieutenant. "But the crystals were thought to be inert to everything," she explained.

"So what happened?"

"The warp core injected anti-matter plasma into the core. There are always some ultra low frequency emissions when that happens. The red crystal picked them up and amplified them, sending them back to the core a few minutes later, even then they shouldn't have hurt anybody! It's just that Seven was putting it into the analyzer to examine it when it flared, the flare used her implants as an antennae!"

"So we seem to have a way of detecting this crystal," the Captain agreed heavily. "But it is too dangerous to use!"

"No Captain!" Torres refuted. "Seven was affected because it used her Borg implants and she was holding it. If you or I were holding it, it would have no effect!"

"I'm not risking it with my crew," Janeway stormed.

"Then I'll do it, Ma'am," a quiet voice interrupted her.

They turned to find the Colonel standing in the doorway, he still looked pale from the shock of Seven's injury and groggy from the sedative the Captain had administered, but he was standing tall and straight.

"You should still be asleep from the sedative!" The Doctor cried in genuine distress.

"I told you Doctor, I've been treated with so many sedatives that they don't work properly anymore," the Colonel spat.

"I'll take a shuttle out and leave a trace trail of anti-matter plasma. When the crystal shows, you can beam it up."

"It's too dangerous!" The Captain sighed. "You could get hurt!"

"It's what I'm good for, Ma'am," the Colonel protested, "That and getting people I care about hurt."

"You didn't get Seven hurt and your not doing it!" She snapped. "Return to your quarters and rest!"

"Ma'am!" He responded and turned to leave again.

"How close must the crystal be to be able to detect it naturally?" She asked more mildly.

"Within 50 Metres," Tuvok spoke for the first time.

She didn't seem to hear him as she seemed to think of something else.

Suddenly she hit her communicator. "Security, secure the Shuttle Bay immediately. Stop the Colonel!"

"Captain?" Tuvok protested.

"That was his 'No, I don't agree' voice. He's going to take a shuttle!" She gasped.

To prove her right, Ensign Kim's voice sounded over the intercom, "Unauthorised shuttle launch!"

"Tractor it!" Janeway desperately shouted at her comms badge.

"Tractor beam is off line. It's been disabled!"

Captain Janeway sagged back in defeat and resignation. "Keep track of it," she demanded.

"What do we do with the crystals, when they have all been found?" She asked, forcing herself to keep her voice controlled.

"It is our intention to destroy them!" Paul Sant announced.

"How?" Janeway demanded.

"We intended to take our vessel beyond the galaxy and into what we call a 'void'. Everything that enters ceases to exist," Gwyndal explained simply.

  
  


The Colonel, who in his own honest opinion was less than an expert shuttle pilot, struggled to get the Type 2 shuttle under control and on the course that Seven of Nine had defined. For a moment he regretted not having downloaded Corporal Miller to the shuttles computer, rather than having him temporarily take Voyagers tractor beam out of action until he was out of range. But then remembered, Miller was definitely not a pilot, even in his less corporeal form he would still be no more capable of controlling the shuttle than he was. So he gritted his teeth and concentrated on getting the shuttle on course.

Finally happy that things were going right, he raised Voyager. It was Tuvok's voice that answered him. 

"Colonel you will disable your drive and allow us to bring you in?" He commanded.

"I'm sorry Commander I cannot do that, we need to find that crystal as safely as possible, for the Captain and possibly Miss Nine as well. I intend to fly about 5,000 miles ahead and release a grain of anti-matter every ten minutes in a curtain around Voyagers path. If Miss Nine was correct about the crystals path and probable speed then it should show sometime in the next 24 hours and you can beam it in."

"What if the crystal should affect you?"

"I'm prepared for that, you won't have to waste a torpedo!" The Colonel assured him. "You know there is no other way to find that rock!"

On the Bridge Tuvok looked questioningly at the Captain, She sighed, "Let him do as he suggests," she agreed. "He is probably right and we would have to disable the shuttle to catch him. I suspect he has probably allowed for that as well"

They settled back to wait, as the Colonel, programmed his spiral path into the onboard computer of the shuttle. His final act was to programme a destruct sequence to a trigger. On board Voyager, Tuvok who had been monitoring the Colonel's inexpert programming, noted his final act. He was about to advise the Captain, when a message showed on his console. 'If I screw up, you know what to do!' It read. He noted it and kept stum as he interpreted the Colonel's meaning.

  
  


After nearly twenty hours waiting, Tuvok announced quietly. "I have detected an anomalous power reading Captain, near the last release of anti-matter. It appears of similar nature to the one in Engineering."

"Track it, advise the Colonel to stand off so we can beam it out. Kim lock onto the crystal as soon as we're in range," she ordered, snapping herself awake from the silent muse she had been in.

"We should be in range Captain," Kim advised a few minutes later. "But there is nothing there!"

"Tuvok?" She queried.

"I can no longer detect the crystal," he admitted.

"Kim beam everything in the area to the Cargo Bay. We'll sort it manually," she demanded desperately.

"Yes, Captain!" Kim responded. "Proximity transport in progress, indicators suggest fifty small objects in transport."

"Cargo Bay, is the crystal there?" Captain Janeway demanded over the intercom.

There was a pause, during which she chaffed visibly.

"No, Captain!" Came Paul Sant's voice.

"Are you sure?" The Captain demanded incredulously.

"We have checked everything very carefully," Sant assured her. "Your transporter appears to be unable to transfer the crystal."

In disappointment she turned back to her security officer. "Advise the Colonel that there was a false alarm, tell him to come back in, he needs to refuel at least!"

"I shall perform one last past in the area in question, to make sure, Ma'am," The Colonel replied on being informed.

"We've detected a surge from the crystal!" Gwyndals voice came over the intercom from the Cargo Bay. "Approximately 4000 Km ahead."

"Captain, that corresponds with the location of the shuttle," Tuvok advised impassively. "The crystal may be attacking the Colonel. Should we advise him?"

The Captain pondered the question carefully. Before she could come to one the Colonel preempted her.

"I've just retraced my route. I think I have our rock! It's attached itself to the corner of the windscreen! Wait!"

Aboard the shuttle the Colonel considered the problem he was faced with. He was fully aware of the danger of the crystal affecting him, indeed he fancied that he could feel the fear of failure that the crystal was claimed to illicit building up inside him, challenging him. He dare not try to navigate the shuttle with the crystal perched precariously on the shuttles visor, in case it slipped off or caused a power surge. It was obvious he could not beam it aboard after Voyagers attempts. In the end he searched the shuttle and found a containment flask. From a cupboard he pulled an emergency survival suit and put it on, trying to remember how all the fastenings and equipment worked, even after all this time aboard it was only the second time he had actually worn the suit and this would be his first space walk. 

Finally ready, he clipped a tether to the suit and activated the air lock force fields.

"Voyager, I'm stepping out to get the crystal," he announced.

Aboard the Bridge of Voyager they looked at each other sharply.

"Is he suit qualified?" Chakotay asked in alarm.

"I am only aware of him using a suit once and that was on a planetoid," Tuvok affirmed the Commanders worst fears.

"Put him on screen. Keep him talking. Help him, he is going to find it difficult, whatever happens," the Captain demanded, remembering her feelings when she had performed her first low gravity space walk.

The shuttles door opened and the Colonel looked out. He staggered drunkenly as the concept of limitless distance to fall in registered itself on his brain, making it reel in revulsion. "It's a bloody long way down! Or is it up?" He mumbled at the suits microphone, fighting the nausea he could feel building up inside his stomach and throat.

"I recommend you shut your eye's until the giddiness subsides," suggested Tuvok in his ear. "When it subsides, keep your eye's trained upon the shuttle. Press the green button on the suit leg, that will activate magnetic grips in the boots, they will help you stay in touch with the shuttle. "

"Roger!" The Colonel replied, counting slowly to ten before opening his eye's again.

Taking Tuvok advice, he stepped out the door and started to walk around the exterior of the shuttle, keeping his eyes firmly glued to where he was placing the next step.

"This is weird," he announced, "I'm walking on what I would normally consider a vertical surface, but it feels as horizontal as any planet. I keep feeling I ought to fall off!"

They smiled nervously at each other on the Bridge, each remembering their own first space walk.

The short walk around the outside of the shuttle took the Colonel a full ten minutes as he shuffled slowly forwards. "Now where are you?" he muttered as he came to the front.

"Ah! There!" 

He knelt, leaned forward, grabbed the stone and shoved it uncermoniously into the jar he was carrying.

He stood again, too quickly, his boots lost their tentative grip on the shuttles plating and he found himself spinning into space.

"Shit!" He exclaimed in alarm, as the feelings of nausea started to overwhelm him again. "The shuttles just run off without me!"

He felt a gentle tug as the tether brought him up short. It didn't stop the spinning and his nausea finally overcame his iron will, forcing him to be comprehensively sick in his helmet.

"Urgh! I don't like this one jot. I never realised that the contents of one's stomach smelt as strong!" He announced, closing his eye's to try and fight off the dizziness again.

As one man the bridge crew leapt to their feet and cried with alarm as they saw the Colonel lose contact of the shuttle, and his distress as he span away. They were settled a little as he managed to keep talking but they continued to watch nervously as they saw the tether stop him spinning too far away.

"Colonel, find the rope you're attached to, and pull yourself back again," Captain Janeway urged desperation creeping into her voice, as she fought her own feelings of helplessness and sympathetic nausea from getting a hold.

"I'm working on it!" The Colonel hissed. "My God, this is stupid, even for you Samuels. Now get yourself out of this you stupid old fart!" He cursed.

They listened to the Colonel's gentle cursing and watched, helplessly as he slowly and painstakingly dragged himself back along the tether to the shuttle, then disappear inside.

"Thank the Lord for that! It's enough to make one tee-total!" He announced at last, his relief clearly showing. "I don't suppose could put upon you to come and collect me? I really don't feel much like fighting the shuttle just at the moment."

Captain Janeway laughed in relief. "Tom manoeuvre to allow us to drag the shuttle aboard," she commanded. "I don't think I've ever heard the Colonel scared for himself before! It's quite a revelation!"

The shuttle was dragged into the shuttle bay some thirty minutes later, with the Captain, Chakotay, Tuvok and the Knights there ready to great it. They found the Colonel on his knees, his face and hair matted from his own sickness. He still looked decidedly green.

He looked up at them as they stared. "I don't suppose you'll let me clean up before I renew my acquaintance with the Brig, please Ma'am?" He requested unsteadily.

"I'm not putting you in the Brig," the Captain assured him. "Now I know of something that your actually scared of doing, I have a much better idea, you can start by cleaning up the mess in here!" She said wickedly.

"Now where is the crystal, you risked yourself for? I hope it was worth it!"

"In the jar, Ma'am. I hope it was too. I'd hate to do all that again," he admitted.

"Go and clean up, Seven should be waking soon, if you want to see her?" Captain Janeway suggested kindly.

"Thank you, Ma'am. If your sure?"

"Of course I'm sure!" She scolded. "She may have become like you, but you need each other to keep out of trouble. I'll call you both when I'm ready to decide about the crystals."

He left quietly.

  
  


Seven of Nine snapped awake an hour later, nervously she looked around her and found the Colonel sat in his normal place, on a container beside her alcove. She relaxed as she spied him, finding his presence comforting as always. 

He rose as she stepped down and greeted her with open arms. They embraced and kissed tenderly, each grateful to have the other in their arms again.

"Please don't scare me like that again!" He whispered in her ear. Getting hurt is my job, you're supposed to do the clever stuff.

"I had no intention of being damaged!" she assured him. "What is our status?"

"We have recovered the crystal, the Captain seems to have made a complete recovery and I've picked up an extra duty. One more fitting for my status and aptitude. The Captain wants to hold a conference over what to do with the crystals, now we have them," he responded happily.

"May I take you for refreshments?"

"Acceptable," she agreed, taking his arm she led him out the cargo bay towards their quarters.

  
  


"I'm not fully convinced we needed to go through so much difficulty to collect the crystal!" the Captain announced in her conference, some three hours later. "Anybody wish to explain why we did it?"

"Permission to speak Ma'am?" The Colonel spoke up for the gathering. She had expected that somehow.

"Carry on, Colonel!" She sighed.

"There are two good reasons for finding the crystal. The first is obvious, we've seen the power of the other crystals and the yellow is regarded as even more dangerous. So it could be said we have done the Delta Quadrant a service."

"The second is more personal for the ship and crew. We believed that it had an effect on you. At this point we're still unsure that it hasn't. For that reason alone I would do everything again if necessary."

"But it looks as though it wasn't," the Captain protested.

"I disagree, Ma'am. The fact that your asking if it was worth the effort suggests that you are still not quite yourself," the Colonel retorted.

"You worry about Seven's protection and leave the ship and crew to me," she snapped. "I am back in command. It's what you wanted isn't it."

"Only if that is what you are happy with, Ma'am," the Colonel responded quietly. "And I am protecting Miss Nine. In the only way I can, keeping her home safe!"

The rest of the meeting tried hard to avoid each others gaze as they sat embarrassed by the short and stormy interlude between the Captain and the Colonel. All could sense that the Colonel had a point, but they were nervous about how far to stretch themselves in his defence.

"How about disposal?" Chakotay asked mildly, trying to find a more acceptable subject.

"I have plotted a course for the void we intend to use for disposal," Paul Sant announced.

"How do you know that it will lead to the destruction of the crystals?" The Colonel asked quietly. "One of the things I have learned from Miss Nine is that nothing can be destroyed as easily as that, no matter how well you break it. Are you sure you're won't be simply palming it off onto somebody else to play with in the future, just as your people found it?"

"Your suggesting that we didn't create the crystals?" Gwyndal asked.

"It seems a plausible explanation as to why you can't actually detect it and don't know what they are created from," the Colonel suggested mildly.

"We don't actually know for positive that the crystals will be destroyed, only that they will cease to exist," Paul Sant explained.

"How do you intend to get there?" The Captain asked determinedly moving the subject along. "I don't think I'm prepared to reverse our course for another 6 years to take you to the edge of the galaxy."

"If you could take us to our home world, Cathoria. We can get another vessel from there. It will not take you off course by more than a year, perhaps two, your vessel is not as fast as our exploration ships. Our race has been exploring the galaxy for many millennia, perhaps we can help you to find a reliable short cut home?" Gwyndal offered.

They all turned towards the Captain. "Captain?" Chakotay voiced for them all. "A gamble of another year against a shorter trip? At our average rate of progress we are still looking at another 15 years."

Captain Janeway considered the proposal for some minutes. "Very well, we'll take you home, or to meet another of your vessels, which ever occurs soonest. But I want the crystals kept in their case and under lock, key and armed guard," she agreed.

"Meeting dismissed. Colonel I would like a private word with you, before you take Seven to dinner."

"Ma'am?" He questioned innocently.

She grinned wolfishly at him. "I know you have a dinner date booked on the Holodeck, so I won't keep you long," she confided, as the rest trooped out the room. 

"First congratulations on your first space walk. I know why you did it, but I still don't approve," she admonished, then lightened considerably. "Tell me you were as scared as you sounded?" She asked hopefully.

"I was terrified, Ma'am," he admitted. "But I considered it necessary and there was no other victim available."

She smiled in relief. "I was a lot sicker than you on my first zero-G walk, I still am," she confided. "It is pointless to tell you not to do it again, I suppose?"

"All things considered, Ma'am. I will not volunteer to try again. But otherwise, No, Ma'am," he admitted.

She nodded, accepting the honesty of his assurance. "The second was, 'Thank you!'."

"For what, Ma'am?" He asked in surprise.

"For getting the others to do what they did, for suggesting I should think, for the book, everything. Please don't try the 'I have done nothing', look, it doesn't suit you! I know too well you operate people. To be honest I'm grateful that you direct it the way you do and for the reasons you do."

"Ma'am!" He acknowledged impassively.

"The last thing was," she furtively checked around her to ensure everybody had left, then finished. "Did you mean what you said about Seven. You wishing to marry her? It wasn't just to unnerve me?"

"I did at the time, Ma'am," he agreed guardedly. "But her getting hurt at the same time I brought the question up might be an omen. I think it might be better to forget I asked."

"I will not," she stated bluntly. "You love her don't you?"

"More than anything, Ma'am. That is why it wouldn't be safe for me to ask."

"Why?" She demanded. A sudden thought struck her. "There was somebody before your wife, wasn't there?" She asked quietly.

"Yes, Ma'am!" He admitted unhappily.

"Tell me about her, please? Another blonde?" Captain Janeway prompted gently.

"It was the reason I escaped the home for the last time, Ma'am. Her name was Mary, we were both fifteen and declared ourselves loyal to each other and her hair was jet black. I was trying to rescue her from another rape by the Wardens. We escaped down the drain pipe, only it came away when she was halfway down. She fell and broke her neck. It was my fault, but I couldn't go back for her."

She looked at him in shock, another skeleton had been pulled out of this mans closely guarded closet.

"There has been a lot of pain in your life, hasn't there?" She asked quietly. "I don't know how, but it has made you the most amazingly unique individual I've ever met. Seven is also a unique person and she could have been made for you. My answer to your question is, 'Yes,' you can ask her whenever you're ready."

"But she will get hurt, Ma'am. I couldn't let that happen, not again," the Colonel pleaded.

"Would you take some advice from me for once Alan?" She asked mildly.

He nodded dumbly.

"Put the past behind you. You are both grown adults and know how to take care of yourselves and each other," she offered.

"Now take her to dinner and propose so I can dust off the order of service," she demanded.

He stood and saluted her smartly. "Thank you, Ma'am!" He snapped, then carried out a quarter turn and marched out the room.

* * *

  
  



	6. Homeless (New 21/3/01)

  
  


# Homeless

_The Colonel is given charge of the Knights of Cathor, to train them as security. Captain Janeway's psychological complication takes a turn for the worse, it puts an Away Team in danger when Voyager goes to the rescue of a ship in distress..._

_Voyager and characters (except the Colonel) in this story are copyright of Paramount. No resemblance is intended to any person alive or dead._

_The story line additional characters and the Colonel are my own._

_Constructive criticism and comments are welcome on e-mail story@rgower.plus.com._

_If like me you like to know why things occur like they do, I would heartily recommend you start at chapter 1-01 Castaway. _

_This story is rated 15 on the UK sensors ratings_

_©R Gower 2000_

  
  


Captain Janeway broke with her own tradition of a solitary breakfast and had breakfast in the mess, choosing a table in the middle of the hall to signify her openness to approach from the crew. She wasn't sure as to what to expect, she had appreciated the Colonel's and Chakotay's attempt to keep her seeming breakdown as quiet as possible, but also realised that in a small vessel like Voyager rumours would spread very quickly, so there was almost certainly something on the ships grape vine about her 'mystery illness'.

She was pleasantly surprised when three crewmen approached her and expressed a level of happiness at her recovery. Obviously rumour wasn't what it was, she thought mildly. But the greatest boost to her own morale was when Niaomi Wildman approached her.

"Excuse me, Captain?" She enquired politely. "But I have something for you," she handed the surprised Captain an envelope.

With some trepidation she took it from the girls hand and opened it, to reveal a picture card. The picture seemed to depict in a child's abstract way the ship flying through space with small stars twinkling in the background.

"My, you're quite an artist!" The Captain smiled.

"There's writing inside it!" The girl informed her. "I had to replicate a pen and everything," she added proudly.

She opened it pensively to find a 'Get Well Soon' message written in the large and spidery hand of someone who was struggling to use a pen for the first time.

"I smell the Colonel in this. It must have taken you a lot of time?" She laughed.

"The Colonel gave me one when I had Space Flu," Niaomi informed her. "He told me it was a special card that would help me get better. I thought it might help you too!"

The Captain laughed freely, it felt like the first time in months she had done so. "Thank you," she said. "It certainly does seem to work," she confessed.

Niaomi giggled with her. "I'm glad you like it," she announced and flounced off again.

The Captains next visitor was the Colonel and Seven of Nine. She looked up a little nervously as he slammed to his usual salute. "Permission to join you for a few minutes, Ma'am?"

"You're late for breakfast this morning, you haven't been doing anything I would disapprove of?" She joked, hiding her trepidation.

"Ma'am?" He queried in seeming shock at the thought that he should ever do such a thing. 

"You tasked me with clearing the mess in the shuttle. It took a little longer than I predicted to complete the job," he explained mildly.

"You weren't that ill, how long could it take?" She queried.

"Three nights so far, Ma'am! But it is almost finished."

"What did you do? Repaint it?" She asked in shock.

"Yes, Ma'am. Among other things," He responded flatly.

"Why? Never mind, how did dinner go last night? I am still hoping for some good news."

"It was a simple dinner date. We ate, then walked on a beach," Seven informed her impassively.

"Hand in hand?" The Captain enquired impishly.

"Our arms were around each others waists, holding hands in that position is not practical," Seven responded innocently.

The innocent way Seven made her statement had the Captain descending into fits of giggles. She struggled to control them, under the contradicting influences of an uncomprehending stare of Seven of Nine and the light blush that was blooming on the Colonel's face.

"I'm sorry," she said at last, wiping her eye's with a napkin. "But I'm glad the Colonel hasn't made you entirely like him," she gasped.

"Is this anything to do with you?" She asked, finally regaining her senses again and pushing Niaomi's Get Well card towards the Colonel.

"I gave her a card when she had the flu'," he admitted. "She seemed to be under the weather and the Doctor's potions, I thought it might cheer her up a little."

"Another Twentieth Century remedy?"

"It's claimed happiness goes a long way to good health, Ma'am. It is a good way to make little girls and their mothers happy."

"It works on ships captains too!" She claimed. "I've never had one before!"

"As I said, Ma'am. Little girls and their mothers. You're the surrogate mother to everybody aboard your ship," he commented with a smile.

"Is that how you felt about your men?" She asked in sudden fascination.

"Yes, Ma'am. For the time they are with you, you are responsible for the way they live their lives and their safety. You live for them, worry for them, try to protect them and share their joys, successes and failures. If that doesn't make you a parent, I really don't know what does," he responded gently.

She stared at him incredulously. The parallel had never occurred to her before, but as he had explained his opinion it was very plausible.

"Okay so I'm now the mother of 158 people and accept it. Am I cured Doctor Samuels?" She asked cheerfully.

He looked at her hard. "No, Ma'am!" He answered her honestly. 

Seeing her eye's open in surprise, he immediately explained his verdict. "The ship was getting into a situation where people were getting hurt, to use the parental analogy, your mothering instincts came into play. I would expect nothing else from you. If you're like this after a fortnight of nothing happening, then I would be more positive."

"And I was feeling so buoyant too!" She sighed in mock despair. "Couldn't you have lied for once, after all you could be wrong!"

"With your permission, Ma'am. I'd rather not lie unless it is essential, then it will seem more like the truth. As for being wrong, that is possible and I have been wrong in the past, so I offer a fortnight as a good 'Sit on the Fence' type answer." 

He smiled suddenly as he caught sight of Tom Paris looking nervously in their direction. "I think if you want some good news, then a good person to talk to about now would be Lieutenant Paris. I believe he may have a question for you to answer. With your permission, Ma'am. I'd better go and finish up with the shuttle, then find something for the knights to do."

She nodded her acceptance and watched him stand and bow to her then tenderly kiss Seven on the cheek. As he moved away she was, as the Colonel had predicted, joined by Tom Paris.

"Permission to come and see you later on please, Captain?" He asked nervously.

"Certainly! Come and see me in my Ready Room this afternoon," she responded. "What about?" Her curiosity getting the better of her.

"I'd rather not say in public!" he advised her intriguingly, getting up to return to his table.

The Captain returned her attention to Seven of Nine, who had continued to sit at her table impassively watching the proceedings.

"Have you ever had the feeling there is a lot more going on around you that you ought to know about?" She asked mildly.

"Captain?" The ex-Borg queried.

"Never mind, and I'm sorry about spoiling your date last night, but I really didn't expect him to take the extra duty so seriously!" She confided. "He must have started right after your date?"

"He claimed he had a punishment detail to perform in a shuttle," Seven admitted. "I was unaware of it's nature or the reasoning for it."

"He took a shuttle and went for an unauthorised space walk," she explained. "He was ill from the experience, getting him to clean up afterwards seemed fitting."

"The shuttle is clean," Seven admitted stiffly. "However I will talk to him regarding extra-vehicular activities, he should be made aware of the dangers."

The Captain smiled, their respective roles with regard to the Colonel seemed to have been reversed. She was now protecting the Colonel from punishment, not Seven. "I wouldn't," she counselled. "As you've stated in the past, he is very adaptable. The less he knows about things, the better he seems to adapt."

"Have you ever thought of making your relationship more official and permanent?" She asked mildly, shifting the topic.

"Captain?" Seven of Nine's ever questioning eyebrow sliding up in puzzlement.

"Creating your own personal collective with Alan?" The Captain persisted.

"You are referring to the act of marriage? I have considered it, but I am uncertain if the Colonel is prepared for that level of commitment, or the purpose of the act."

The Captain kept a straight face, just and with much effort. "I think you should consider it much more deeply," she advised, trying to keep her voice serious. "I don't know of anybody as committed as the Colonel and he would be a lot more responsive! I know he still isn't as responsive as you would like him to be," she teased.

"I shall consider your statement," Seven responded impassively.

The Captain looked at her half eaten and now cold breakfast. "Well as a meal it wasn't the most nutritious thing I've tried to eat," she commented. "But it has been interesting. What is your agenda today?"

"I have been requested to define a course for the Cathorian home world," Seven affirmed placidly.

"I'll see you at the staff meeting then, enjoy yourself." She announced, rose and left the Mess, secretly toying with the notion of which of the two would actually come to their senses and propose first and if the others pride would allow them to accept.

  
  


B'Elanna Torres stumbled onto the Colonel's activities in the shuttle bay whilst searching for a spare manifold for a power relay.

"What have you done!" She exclaimed in shock, as she took in the now gleaming shuttle that now faced her.

"The Captains orders were specific," he responded flatly. "Clean the shuttle."

"I know that," Torres laughed. "But she said clean, not polish. It hurts the eyes and they don't come out the assembly shop like that!"

"I wasn't aware there was a difference?" He questioned defensively.

She looked at him with an amused and questioning gaze and he relented a little.

"Well perhaps there is," he admitted. "But it is difficult to overcome thirty years of indoctrination as easily as that."

"I don't understand?"

"When I joined the army my training platoon was controlled by three NCO's," he started. "Corporal 'See no Evil', Corporal 'Think no Evil' and Sergeant 'I am Evil'. All specially trained to be sadists, or at least it seemed that way at the time. Their goal was to make us into perfect soldiers in the hardest, meanest and quickest way possible and they were impossible to please, I'll give you an example shall I?" He smiled fondly at the memories.

"Go on!" Torres prompted in fascination, this looked as though it could be an entertaining story from the Colonel's past, for once.

He carefully sat himself on a container and complied to her prompting. "Twenty of us were billeted in a wooden nissen hut during basic training, a building a little smaller than the Mess. As you can imagine it was quite cramped. Just as well really, the pot bellied stove didn't work properly and it was the middle of a cold winter," he drily set the scene for her. 

"Anyhow we were given punishment duty, I can't remember what it was for, possibly walking on the parade ground or some similar heinous crime." 

"You may giggle Lieutenant, but it was a serious crime then to be caught not marching. Only slightly less serious than walking on the grass outside the RSM's office," he chided the giggling Lieutenant. 

"The task we were given was simple, clean the billet, top to bottom after normal duty. Sounds easy doesn't it? Just waft a broom and mop around?" He queried.

She nodded in amusement.

"Well it wasn't! Another hut had a similar punishment the week before, and they were nailed for everything, dust on the window pelmets, sheets not folded square, stove not black leaded, I mean everything," He answered for her, ignoring the disbelief forming on her face.

"So we set to it. We worked solidly and all night ready for the inspection at six o'clock the following morning. We polished the floor, black leaded the stove, got all the sheets and blankets folded to exactly regulation size, ironed uniforms for razor creases, blanco'd webbing, everything except the coal scuttle. We remembered to polish it alright, but forgot to keep the level right." He smiled whimsically.

"As you can imagine it was what Sergeant Evil picked on the following morning. The bastard knocked the surplus coal onto the floor, ground it in, then complained we hadn't scrubbed the floor properly, as well as having too much coal in the bucket. We had to do it all again the following night," he laughed as he had finished. 

"Tell me you just made it up?" Torres pleaded amidst her giggles.

"It's absolutely true!" The Colonel protested. "We did get our own back, sort of, though. One of the lads found a several large blocks of bees wax in the stores and we polished the floor with that. The following morning the whole Evil gang marched in to inspect with white gloves and magnifying glasses, they went arse over tit on the waxed floor." He laughed

"It was a short lived victory mind, the Lieutenant and Captain went over as well. We spent the following two nights sanding the floor off again and three weeks as runners for the guardroom."

Torres doubled over in glee at the story. "I still don't believe it!" She gurgled.

"It taught me several things," the Colonel continued. "Look for details and whilst you can fight authority and even have the occasional victory, you can't actually beat it."

"But we aren't anything like that now!" She gasped, trying to gather her wits again.

"I know, but I went through more than thirty years in that sort of culture! Water the flowers in the rain, paint the grass green and roads black, I've seen it, done it and even ordered it done occasionally," he commented quietly. 

"Enough reminiscing. Can I help you with anything?" He asked.

"I was after a manifold," she admitted. "It's in that corner. If you've finished with your shuttle could you help me take it back to Engineering?"

"Certainly, Ma'am," he agreed, picking up the heavy unit she had pointed to and moving to the door.

  
  


"What route are you recommending, to take us to Cathoria?" Captain Janeway demanded in the staff conference.

"I have defined a route with the co-operation of Miss Seven of Nine," Gwyndal offered, nodding to Seven who activated a wall screen to display the proposed route. "It will require about seven months at Voyagers cruising velocity."

"It's very circuitous!" Tom Paris remarked. "Why not go straight through, it would only take a month?"

"The intervening area is controlled by a race called the 'Felongra'. They are not necessarily hostile, but are bureaucratic, unfriendly, militaristic and expansionist," Gwyndal explained. "Passing through their space would create much delay, they will certainly demand to inspect your vessel and crew at numerous points. They have also been known to object to ships carrying weapons, crews fraternising with people from their colonised worlds and anything else considered natural."

"Seven, your assessment?" The Captain urged.

"Felongra, species 3627, feline, generally hostile," she recited. "Females are effective tactical drones, males are physically strong and are used for construction. A number of other races are included in their Empire. Most have been overwhelmed. They have limited warp capability, but highly efficient weaponry. If caught in combat we would be in danger. Borg ships have been destroyed by Tigron vessels, usually through Felongra deploying large numbers of small heavily armed vessels."

"In that case I think we will take your advice Gwyndal," the Captain put in quickly. "This route will avoid them detecting us?"

"It should do Captain Janeway," he affirmed.

"Despite what it may look like, this vessel is not a passenger ship, so we will need to find duties for you whilst enroute. I understand you have declared service to the ship under the Colonel?"

"Yes, Captain Janeway," Gwyndal affirmed. "We have taken him as our First Knight."

"I can see he is happy about that idea," she smiled, as she spotted the Colonel's grimace. "We have discussed the concept of improving onboard ships security before. I think you now have a company of soldiers Colonel. You and Tuvok will arrange suitable training so that they settle down. Harry can look after the Dog Watch."

"I assume you've finished cleaning the shuttle?" She finished tauntingly.

"Ma'am. Lieutenant Torres inspected it an hour ago," he affirmed.

"B'Elanna?" The Captain queried impatiently.

"Oh! Yes. It's clean, Captain! Believe me," B'Elanna enthused, spluttering and struggling to hide the laughter that was forming inside her again. "You should see it, nobody will recognise it!" She finished, giving in to a guffaw of mirth.

Captain Janeway looked at her sharply, in a mixture of surprise and bewilderment at the response from the normally sober Engineer. "Explain?" She demanded.

"I can't Captain," she sobbed in laughter. "You need to see it!"

"Very well I'll go and look later," she responded tartly. 

Is there anything else I should be made aware of? She demanded. Otherwise meeting dismissed.

Tom Paris remained after the others had left, hoping to have his private word. She sighed in resignation. What's gotten into B'Elanna? She demanded. I've never seen her so.. She sought for the right word. So easily amused! She finished weakly. Is that what you want to talk to me about?

I don't think so Captain! He confessed in bemusement.

Then what do you want to talk about? She demanded. The Colonel suggested that you have some good news, is that the case?

I'd like permission to ask B'Elanna to marry me? He stammered quickly.

She stared hard at him for what seemed minutes. Finally she asked, What does B'Elanna have to say about it?

I haven't asked her yet, he confessed, his face reddening. But the Colonel suggested it would be better to get your agreement in principle first, on the grounds we aren't a perfect match, he explained hurriedly.

On the contrary, I think you will make a good match, the Captain assured him. Probably as good as the other one I've been asked for judgement on recently, certainly more exciting. But are you sure you are up to it?

I hope so, Ma'am! Paris stuttered. I'm making an engagement ring and everything!

An engagement ring! She exclaimed. Marriage is more than a worthless ring!

I know! He assured her. But I thought it would serve as a promise, I'm hoping to finish it in the next couple of days. I know I'll have to work at being a good husband.

She settled herself again and smiled. The Colonel has an effect on everything on the ship doesn't he? She commented. You have my permission to ask her, but I want to talk to you both before I decide to let you marry. In the mean time you might as well come and see what the Colonel has done to the shuttle? She offered.

Tom Paris smiled in relief at the Captains agreement. Thank you, Ma'am, he sighed appreciatively.

  
  


Chakotay took Harry Kim aside as they left the meeting.

"Have you sat in on the Colonel's Dog Watch?" He asked in concern.

Kim shook his head in the negative.

Chakotay smiled grimly. "It could either be the easiest watch you'll ever command, or the hardest of your life!" He warned.

"The Colonel's attitude to command is different to the Captain's, perhaps more like the Maqui. He requires his staff to react to routine events without command, but always be ready for something different to come from the Commander. You will always know what's going on, but you will have to be quick, if you want to do something different" he explained

"My advice is watch them work on a scenario and see how they work as a team, it is invariably an interesting experience. Don't let them go too far from standard Star Fleet response, don't try and be the Colonel, nobody can. And make sure your uniform is perfect, because theirs will be and you'll have to inspect them," he finished.

"Aye Commander," Kim responded with not a little trepidation.

  
  


The Colonel glared at his new recruits in silence, weighing them up carefully. Well you volunteered to come under my command, he told them quietly. Now you will learn the folly of being so ready to jump into something you don't know about.

I am going to train you to the standard required to be a Royal Marine. From now on you are not knights but marines. Your soul purpose in life is the protection of this ship and it's crew. I am going to teach you to survive and you are going to learn well and quickly.

I will be gentle today, we'll start with a little exercise to get you warmed up, he announced, producing a whistle from his pocket. On the first blast of the whistle you will commence jogging around the parade ground, so kindly produced by Commander Tuvok, he benevolently indicated the Commander stood beside him. On the second you will charge screaming at the top of your voice until I blow it for the third time. You will throw yourselves to the ground, without a sound. At the next blast you will start jogging again and so on. We shall keep it up until either I get bored or one of you dies from a heart attack, he threatened.

He blew his whistle and the knights cum marine recruits started to jog gently around the compound. He blew again and they broke into a run, trying to shout as he had demanded.

I can't hear you! He screamed at them. You're marines not bloody monk's, I said scream!

He demonstrated in a knights ear, terrifying him into an improved response.

He blew again and they slumped to the ground.

I said throw yourselves to the ground! He shouted at them again. Put some bloody effort into it!

Again he blew and the knights struggled to their feet and started again.

He kept them working at his exercises for a good thirty minutes, bellowing crude encouragement at them until they were clearly past the point of exhaustion.

Anybody want to go home yet? He enquired brightly. 

Tough you're in the army now! He dashed any hopes they may have had by bringing them to attention then forcing them through a rapid set of shouted commands to face left, right, front and rear.

He descended on a knight with glee when he got confused and turned the wrong way. You horrible little man! He screamed at the unfortunate individual. Don't know you left from right now! I'll help you! Then proceeded to forcibly turn the man left and right as he continued his shouted his commands.

Finally he relented and brought them to attention. Tomorrow we will begin the hard work, he threatened. We can start to teach you to fight. After that how to think whilst doing it!

There is a security detail outside, they will escort you to your new billets on deck thirteen. You have one hour to move in then return here and learn to march. Just remember you are now Marines the second best fighting force in the Galaxy. You will behave as such, with honour and discipline. Dismissed.

Your methods are brutal! Tuvok complained, as the knights left the holodeck.

Are they? The Colonel queried sternly, then softened again as he saw the Commanders troubled look.

he explained. If they have to fight, there is a good chance that whoever they fight have never heard of the Geneva Convention or whatever rules you use now and we will be outnumbered. They have to be prepared to fight in and under any conditions they meet and accept it. No matter how harsh it seems now the enemy is going to do worse. I won't keep this up for long, but I need to find if they have the stamina and the fight to keep up, perhaps one will even have the balls to challenge their treatment?

Tuvok grunted. Who are the best troops in the Galaxy? He queried.

The Colonel's face broke into a grin. Why, the 60th Rifles of course! He claimed proudly. May I take you for a mug of tea?

  
  


What has he done to it! The Captain exclaimed in shock, grabbing at the Shuttle Bay console for support. 

She had come, as promised, to have a look at the shuttle that had caused B'Elanna so much amusement. On the way she had collected B'Elanna, so that she could explain her merriment and they with Tom Paris were now gazing in wonder at the sparkling apparition in front of them.

Colonel to the Shuttle Bay! She demanded on her intercom, approaching the sparkling shuttle with some caution, fearing to touch it in case it left a mark.

Tom Paris, less concerned of the aesthetics, entered cautiously to examine the inside.

You told him to clean it, B'Elanna giggled. It's just that he took the order at face value and cleaned it like he would under his rules.

There isn't a mark anywhere, Paris announced from inside the shuttle. Even the control panel looks as though it's never been touched!

But a shuttle can't stay in that state! She protested. It will be as dirty as it was before after the first use!

I don't think it matters, it's the principle, B'Elanna commented, then proceeded to recount the story that Colonel had told her. The extremes elicited the same responses from the Captain as they had done from her chief engineer, ranging from shock, through disbelief, into giggles of amusement.

Colonel Samuels reporting, Ma'am? The Colonel's dry voice brought them to their senses again.

I only meant clean your mess up! The Captain protested, fighting her mirth and trying to sound serious.

Maybe Ma'am. But your order was not that explicit, the Colonel pointed out.

No wonder it took so long! What did you use? She gasped.

I found suitable cleaning materials in the cargo bays, Ma'am. But I did have to use emery paper on the engine ports to remove the crud, he admitted defensively.

You cleaned inside the engines as well! She exclaimed. Is there anywhere you missed?

Not that I'm aware of, Ma'am.

Is this your bee's wax again? If it is I'll have B'Elanna strip the shuttle to find the dirt you missed and have you do it again! She threatened with a smile.

The reply was impassive but questioning.

B'Elanna, find something? She demanded. Are you intending to put the Cathors through this?

If that is what it takes to make them good soldiers, yes Ma'am.

She sighed wistfully. I always thought it was a hard life at the Academy, doing as you're told. But we never had anything like this. I'm beginning to regret asking you to turn them into security personnel, she claimed.

  
  


Her foreboding's were amplified an hour later when Tuvok returned to take up his station at Tactical.

How's it going down there? She enquired lightly.

He is currently attempting to teach them to march like he does, Tuvok announced blandly. I see little value in the exercise, or his approach. It appears to be aimed at making them hostile to him.

Grim is it? She enquired further, a smile playing on her lips.

Indeed Captain, he agreed impassively.

He is teaching them the way he was trained, the Captain commented drily. 

If you want some idea how hard that was go and have a look at the shuttle. He has cleaned that the way he was required to perform a punishment detail. It looks pointless but perhaps there is a purpose in the madness. It made him what he is, she counselled. Keep an eye on things and prevent him getting out of control.

He has requested that they are tested on operational aspects of the ship. Do you wish them to be so trained? Tuvok asked.

I see no harm in it, they are now members of the crew, she commented, settling back in her seat for the long shift ahead. At least he recognises there is more than simple fighting to be done.

  
  


The Colonel finally called time on his training activities at 20:00. I've seen worse, he grudgingly complimented them. But you have a long way to go. Reveille will be at 06:00, be prepared for hard physical drill.

Behind him the Captain entered the holodeck to watch his progress.

Platoon, He snapped, the knights came to a fair semblance of his straight stance.

Platoon, Dismiss! He finished. They saluted and performed a crisp quarter turn to their right, breaking ranks and heading for the door. Only Gwyndal remained.

Why are you treating us like this? He demanded.

The Colonel glared at him. I have not heard you request permission to speak, Marine! He snapped. I'll let it go this time, but not the next time.

The answers to your impudent question are, you volunteered to follow my commands. I want to find out how well you follow them. And I want you to be an efficient fighting force, not knights or security guards, but real soldiers. That way you might live long enough to be old soldiers. Good night Marine Gwyndal, he dismissed him, finally turning to the Captain and snapping a salute to her.

Captain, Ma'am! He snapped.

Is there anything else you're looking for from them? She enquired quietly.

A bit of fire to be honest, Ma'am, he confessed. I think Gwyndal may have it, but the others seem as docile as cattle. Still it's early days, he brightened.

Not driving them too hard are you? She probed. After all they are capable of fighting and this isn't the British Army! The only thing you seem to be achieving in them is a desire to kill you!

He laughed. If they achieve it then good luck to them, but I hope they learn how to kill before they do, then they won't want or need to.

  
  


Returning to his quarters he found Seven of Nine engrossed in her work at the back of the room. The first thing he noticed was that she was, by the ex-Borg's standards, dressed unusually. Her habitual skin tight bodysuit had been replaced by a calf length silk dress, it glinted green and grey as she worked. Her hair had been freed of it's characteristic bun and hung to her shoulders in a cascade of gold, caught by a grey hair clip.

He stood for a moment stunned by the change of appearance, then finally approached. "Miss Nine. You are looking more beautiful than usual!" he began. "I can only assume that you have an important rendezvous with somebody special, I do hope he's worth it?"

She turned, the dress flickering it's metallic sheens at him as she did so. "Beauty is irrelevant. However I believe that this form of preparation is considered important for a good impression," she claimed dispassionately.

"He must be very important to you then!" The Colonel claimed earnestly. "I'll change quickly and disappear to the Mess for dinner and let you get on with it! May I enquire who my rival is for your affections?"

"You have no objection?" She queried, an eyebrow raising in mock surprise, toying with him.

"Of course not, how could I?" He answered, a tinge of sadness showing in his voice. "You are a young and beautiful woman and I have nothing to keep you with or for!"

"The target for my 'rendezvous' is with Alan Samuels. I consulted Neelix for a suitable romantic meal and it was to be a surprise," She finally admitted, with the sly smile she had been developing over the last few months. "Your concerns are inappropriate."

He smiled broadly and put an arm around her waist, then tapped her on the nose with a finger before kissing it gently. "You enjoy teasing me don't you?" He asked quietly.

"You respond quickly and predictably," she agreed.

"I suppose I do," he admitted wistfully. "But I still can't get used to the simple fact that the most beautiful and intelligent woman on the ship, appears to have the hots for me. I can assure you that you don't need to get dressed up for me though. I love you without the fuss." 

"Now what were you planning to spring on me?" He asked lightly.

She turned back to the work top she had been peering over when he had entered. "Neelix supplied these ingredients," she announced pointing at the provisions. "I am unsure as to how to prepare them, it has proved more difficult than anticipated."

He closed up behind her and peered over her shoulder. "You know, there are many things I will always attribute to you," he whispered in her ear, kissing it gently, she shuddered luxuriantly at the touch.

"Intelligence, beauty, even a little naiveté! But I don't see cooking as ever being on the list!".

"Still, let's see what we have, then perhaps you'll let me help you?"

"Acceptable," she agreed, leaning back a little to rest on his chest.

"Most of it looks like fish, some rice and salad type veg. I think we can manage something like Su-Shi from this," he commented, still looking over her shoulder arms around her waist.

"If you cut up some of those red sausage things," he indicated a vegetable similar to a cucumber, but deep red in colour. "Into blocks about an inch long and scoop out the inside to make a sleeve. We can mix the inside with some of the flaked fish, crab and rice, shove it back inside and serve with spicey sauces."

Quickly he started to demonstrate, as Seven pressed more firmly back against him. "Tease!" he whispered in her ear again, as he felt himself respond to the rhythmic rocking of their bodies. "I'd better find some sauce, before dinner, romantic or otherwise, becomes immaterial!" 

He kissed her on the neck and moved towards the replicator.

  
  


On the Bridge Ensign Kim took his place in the Captains chair, armed with only Chakotay's timely advice that morning and a rapid review of the watch log. The ship's scuttle butt' would have him believe that the Colonel was a hard task master compared to the Captain. The rumour seemed to have some point of truth as the watch gathered on the Bridge and stood smartly at alert, waiting for him to inspect their turn out. Not since the Academy had he witnessed such an event, but he dutifully inspected them and found, as Chakotay had prophesied, nothing amiss however minute, he wished he had put as much time as had been recommended into his own preparation.

He quickly found how true Chakotay's other warnings had been, as Kala warned of an encroaching meteor shower and without a word of command they reacted to the impending threat. The whole action of reinforcing shields and bringing Voyager around to face the threat had taken less than fifteen seconds, from Ensign Kala detecting the shower to Crewman Winston altering course. They had commentated their actions as they were working, ready for any alternative command that might be given, but it had been unnerving to say the least. 

From his chair he reviewed a number of scenarios that the Colonel had pre-prepared, but decided against testing any on the first night, resolving to test them privately before hand. He reflected on Chakotay's quiet advice to watch the activities of the Watch, before trying to command it. Advice he decided to heed.

His reverie was short lived as Ensign Kala piped up a warning. Mayday being received. Vessel under attack by pirates. Bearing 80.45, range 15 million klicks, Sir! She snapped from her station.

It was immediately followed by Ensign Carver. Vessel detected, Sir! Three smaller vessels appear to be in close proximity. There is an asteroid belt between us and the vessel, we are unlikely to be detected.

Possible courses computed and laid awaiting instruction, Sir! Crewman Winston immediately after.

Power systems and weapons status show nominal, Sir!

Suddenly he realised they were waiting for his command. He swallowed hard, wondering what he could do, he had to do something authoritative. Sound yellow alert, bring weapons and shields on-line. Alert the Captain! He croaked, the delay had seemed intolerable compared to their rapid preparations.

Snapped the Captain tumbling onto the Bridge a few minutes later.

Quickly Kim briefed her on what had been reported.

How quickly can we get to them? She demanded.

Approximately four hours, Ma'am, reported Winston from the pilots station. We would have to either circumnavigate or pass through an asteroid belt.

Too long, She protested. This is the Think Tank, other options?

We could send the Flyer and the Valorian fighter, it's still in the shuttle bay, suggested Carver. They could pass through the Asteroids and could frighten the attackers, if piloted aggressively enough!

She nodded. Bring us to full battle readiness. Set quickest course, she demanded sitting back in her seat and watched as the watch set out to put her orders in action.

  
  


Down in their quarters the Colonel and Seven of Nine had settled down to their late dinner and he was demonstrating the use of chopsticks to the cynical blonde.

Just think of them as tweezers, he suggested helpfully, expertly picking up one of their Su-Shi' morsels dabbing it in the sweet sauce he had prepared and offering it to her mouth encouragingly.

They are clumsy and inefficient, she complained, before opening her mouth to allow him to drop the delicacy in.

The Chinks say the same about knifes and forks, he assured her, selecting one for himself.

Direct assimilation of nutrients is more efficient, she declared.

That is also true, he admitted. But not nearly as much fun or as intimate. He offered her another block.

Is there a purpose behind this level of preparation? He queried gently, as she accepted it. It would be totally out of character for you to do this without one.

The Captain suggested it was time to evaluate our status, she said calmly.

The Colonel shuddered involuntarily, as the cold hand of worry gripped his heart. Oh! And you have? He suggested.

She finally managed to pick up a Su-shi block and offered it in victory to the Colonel.

Nervously he accepted it and chewed quietly waiting for her to elucidate, she seemed to be trying hard to come to a decision. Before she could the 'Red Alert', sounded calling all and sundry to duty stations.

"We should continue the discussion at another time," she announced quickly, standing up leaving the Colonel frustrated.

"Perhaps you're right," he sighed his agreement. "Just remember whatever you have decided, I will still love you!

She pecked him on the cheek and hurried out the door for her station. The Colonel followed her a little more slowly as he contacted his new marines and deployed them around the ship.

Where are the knights? The Captain demanded as he slammed to attention on the Bridge.

Marines Gwyndal and D'Argonaic are in Engineering, Marine Sant is taking station with Miss Nine in Astrometrics, the rest are taking station in the Mess for deployment as required, Ma'am, he advised mildly, correcting her terminology.

She flashed him a vague smile, acknowledging his mild correction. We might need them! She said mildly. We're enroute to the assistance of a vessel that claims it is being attacked by pirates.

Very good, Ma'am, the Colonel acknowledged blandly, taking his customary station beside the lift door and standing at ease, hands behind his back.

Seven, can you identify any of the ships? The Captain ordered on her intercom.

In Astrometrics Seven of Nine interrogated her systems, before reporting back. Negative Captain. The smaller vessels appear to be using Photonic weaponry, she answered eventually.

Download all the tactical information you can and join us on the Bridge, the Captain responded quickly.

Permission to Speak, Ma'am? The Colonel spoke up from his station.

Captain Janeway turned to him in surprise. Go ahead, she agreed cautiously.

It strikes me as we are near Felongran territory that these could be Felongran vessels fighting, Ma'am. We could be getting involved in somebody else's war. We are not in the best position to get involved in a shooting war, he suggested.

Are you suggesting we should simply sail on and ignore an appeal for help? Tuvok interrupted.

Until the attacks have stopped at least, the Colonel agreed. We have no business getting involved with other peoples arguments.

Tuvok, attempt to contact the alien vessel, find out who they are, Captain Janeway ordered, glaring at the Colonel.

Minutes passed before Tuvok responded. I am unable to raise the ships, Captain. However I have managed to decode more of the distress signal. The vessel claims to be Elgron cargo vessel carrying refugees. The smaller vessels have withdrawn, he announced.

Are you satisfied Colonel? The Captain asked, annoyance showing.

he responded neutrally, not going to be drawn into any form of extended discussion. In his own mind he had decided that the course of action the Captain had decided on was unwise, it made him consider the state of mental health again.

Your concern is noted, she snapped, recognising the tone. I will not ask you to join the Away Team. Chakotay, Tuvok, Seven and Harry Kim will go. You are relieved.

He responded, his voice rising in alarm.

Permission to speak, Ma'am? He pleaded.

She snapped back. You are relieved, return to quarters until the matter is settled.

He slammed to attention, saluted and turned for the lift door, pulling his comm badge off and handing it to Tuvok as he left.

Chakotay had been listening to and watching the Captain hard during the interchange. Are you sure about that? He whispered in her ear. If there is a physical problem aboard that ship, the Colonel will be essential for safety.

My Ready Room, she snapped back and storming towards the door.

Are you saying he is right, that it has nothing to do with us and we should simply sail on and ignore a distress call? She stormed as the door closed behind Chakotay.

Chakotay denied vigourously. I'm just pointing out that there may well be danger on that ship, both from the occupants and those that were attacking it. In that case I'd rather have the Colonel for protection than half the security aboard the ship, you've said that in the past as well. If you asked him to go he would.

He objected to my order! She complained angrily

He voiced a concern over the status of the ship we are aiming to assist, Chakotay admitted. But he didn't object to it, he wouldn't, you know that!

It's time he learnt we don't need his guidance and protection, we have survived before and we can do so again.

At least let me take a couple of the knights with us for security? Chakotay asked quietly.

You agree with him? 

Chakotay could see the Captains anger building inside her but could not think of any means of deflecting it. I agree he had a point, in as far as you allowed him to speak, he agreed carefully, his own frustration building. But if you're thinking of relieving me for that, then you had better be prepared to suspend everybody on the Bridge.

They will follow my orders! She snarled at him.

And so will the Colonel. You know that, but it didn't stop you relieving him, He snapped, giving in to his own annoyance. 

Are you trying to make an example of him, to show you are the Captain, or is there something else? He demanded.

It was Captain Janeway's turn to be guarded in her response. He thinks I haven't come out of the depression yet! She admitted.

The way he described his symptons, I'm inclined to agree with him! Chakotay retorted. Your attitude matches what he described perfectly. 

I'll go and prepare the Away Team. Do I get the knights? He demanded.

Chakotay's retort slapped the Captain as hard as a physical blow and she glared at him. If you're that scared then you had better take all of them, she retorted. 

Better still don't go and I'll find somebody else to take your place, she screamed at his retreating back. Then followed him to the Bridge.

Let's look at this ship! She demanded.

Tuvok complied from his station, taking control of the main view screen to project an image of the vessel.

The Vessel is approximately 2500 metres long, 1000 metres wide, 500 tall, he described. Three sections, the centre appears to be the main habitation area, the other two form outriggers. They appear to be hangers or cargo bays. Port side outrigger is badly damaged and open to space, as is a large amount of the main section. Other parts appear to have stable life support. Propulsion formed by six ion drives, all defensive systems are down. Numerous life signs.

Chakotay, your away team is ready? She queried.

he agreed reluctantly to her command.

  
  


The Colonel did not return directly to his quarters, but went via the Mess where he found Paul Sant. He stood to attention as he approached, and made to salute.

That will be unnecessary Marine, the Colonel said quietly. I am under open arrest and have no control over you. I would ask a favour of you though?

Responded the slightly bemused knight, he was finding the Colonel's rules and regulations complicated to adhere to, far more difficult than the ceremonies of knighthood. He demanded absolute obedience and had put them through the sort of treatment that had left them feeling exhausted and humiliated, but now he was requesting a favour like a friend.

Seeing the knight's confusion the Colonel speaking quickly and quietly tried to explain. I won't apologise for my attitude and treatment of you and the others earlier, or promise to change them, he started.

There are reasons for it and perhaps you will learn what they are by the time we reach your home world. I will tell you they will make you good soldiers. But at the moment the Captain is intending to send an Away Team onto a freighter in the hope of rescuing some refugees. I think they are going to get into trouble. Will you please go to their help as soon as they hit it?

Sant considered the request carefully. You think I will have to act in contravention to Captain Janeway's orders, the person who you said we should obey above all others? He demanded.

the Colonel replied simply.

Why should we do as you request? Sant snapped. You have been put under arrest.

Because it's your damned stones that have stopped her thinking properly, the Colonel shot back. 

he continued more gently. This is not a fighting crew, they find it difficult to tell when to stop trying to be friends and get on with fighting. Of the people she is sending, only Tuvok will be able to offer any real resistance in hand to hand combat and I wouldn't like to guarantee that!

Sant looked contrite as a flash of shame flit across his face. You believe the stones are still affecting the Captain? He queried.

The Colonel nodded, We didn't stop them the first time.

Very well I will wait in the transporter room, ready for Captain Janeway's command to go to their assistance, he compromised.

Thank you. But don't wait too long before you go, Captains orders or no. Be a good soldier use your judgement, the Colonel insisted. At least one of the Away Team is very dear to me, he confessed. 

Saluting the bemused knight he turned on his heel and returned to his room to wait. He hoped Seven of Nine would appear before she left for the mission, at least so he could hold her and wish her luck and safety, but reasoned that the Captain would probably forbid it in her current mood. Unhappily he sat at the table and extracted the metalwork he had been working on over the last few days and recommenced work. A small inspiration struck him, Computer, advise on loss of contact with Seven of Nine.

Insufficient privileges exist for that command! The computer squawked back at him.

He had half expected that he would be locked out of the system after being relieved. Override, Miller code 3856, ident M732680, confirm with lights dip, he snapped back, using the security backdoor that he had been given by his Corporal computer cracker.

The computers electronic voice was replaced by the little Corporals cockney accent. Your lady is in trouble, Sir? It queried.

Not yet, Corporal and I hope she won't be, the Colonel admitted. Thank you for your concern.

I'll keep track on her, Sir! Millers voice floated back. May I offer some advice, Sir? It added conversationally.

What is it? The Colonel sighed, putting down his work.

I know you're trying to impress Miss Nine by trying to learn about the ship and all, but it's not what she wants, Sir!

What does she want, Corporal?

She wants to feel like a woman with you, but she doesn't know how, the cryptic reply came. The Corporal's voice disappeared, before the Colonel could demand an explanation.

  
  


Voyagers Away Team materialised in what was believed to be a large and largely empty hanger bay. Quietly they looked around them, a large force field covered aperture towards the stern of the vessel and the remains of three small shuttles confirmed the suspicion.

Sensors detected a large number of life forms 600 metres from this point, Seven of Nine commented nervously.

They were all feeling the absence of the Colonel's confident protection and sixth senses, Chakotay realised. He found himself scanning the surrounds nervously, not trusting the results from the tri-corders as much as he used to. Pulling himself together he called his party together.

We should be safe as long as we stay together, he announced. There is nothing magical about these people and we have tri-corders that will detect any form of approach, he encouraged.

Seven lead on, he ordered and they followed the tall blonde as she led them through a doorway into the ship.

They entered the ship proper, with no surprises. Seven indicated a direction and they proceeded with caution.

"I am reading numerous life forms ahead." She confided. "Two different species."

She stopped at a door, indicating the source of her life readings. Tuvok activated the door control and it opened silently, they stepped in. It appeared to be a large vestibule, dimly lit, they sensed rather then saw another heavy door infront, as the door behind them closed. 

Quickly Kim turned back to the door behind them to find it secured and no means of opening it again. The discovery was followed by a low hissing noise from around their feet.

Spluttered Chakotay, feeling his eye's start to stream. 

Voyager, lock on and beam us out! He gasped in alarm at his communicator, as the room started to spin in front of him. He felt the fuzzy feeling of the transporter beam as he blacked out.

  
  


Did we get them? The Captain demanded on the Bridge as they lost communication with the Away Team.

I got Ensign Kim and Commander Chakotay, Captain, the Ensign admitted nervously from the console. I lost contact with Seven of Nine and Tuvok. A dampening field seemed to spring up as I started the transport.

Find them and bring them back! She almost screamed at the unfortunate Ensign.

Doctor, what state are Chakotay and Kim in? She continued by snapping at her communicator.

They have inhaled some form of gas. I will have to perform tests to find out what it was, the Doctor announced from the Transporter Room. I don't think it was serious, they didn't inhale enough for it to be dangerous.

  
  


In his quarter's the Colonel was disturbed by the lights in the room momentarily dipping. Silently he stood and pulled on his combat jacket. Two steps took him to the wardrobe where he kept his equipment and he donned his pack and weaponry.

Miller, activate transporter. Beam me to the Away Teams start co-ordinates, he demanded calmly. On completion, advise the Captain where I am, if she asks.

He materialised as he had demanded in the same spot as the Away Team had some time before, he immediately darted for cover amongst the litter in the hanger, then scanned the surroundings carefully. Finally satisfied that he was not in immediate danger from attack he moved towards the open doorway into the ship.

The Colonel's progress was by nature very different from that used by the Away Team. Where as they had marched up the corridors boldly, content that the Tri-corders they were using would advise them of impending threats. The Colonel skittered up them carefully, keeping close to walls, checking doors, glancing around him, checking corners before proceeding. It did mean that it took longer to cover a comparable distance, even though it was much safer.

He found it difficult to accept the answers that the machinery around him gave at face value, preferring to use them to supplement his own instincts. He felt it gave him an edge over his technology reliant friends in circumstances like these. Not that he could read the displays properly either, to him the gnomish symbols and display could mean almost anything.

He noticed the strange smell as he flitted quietly along the corridor, all pervading, sickly and sweet, it was familiar, but he could not put a meaning to it. He opened a door and the full force of the smell hit him and he reeled back in revulsion. He knew what the smell was now, remembered images of death camps flooded his mind as he steadied himself against the wall of the corridor.

Swallowing hard to recover from the violent wave of nausea, he steadied himself and approached the door again. 

The room was in darkness so by the light of the small pocket torch he carried he gazed queasily at the sight in front of him. It appeared to be a large hold, the weak beam from the torch could not penetrate the haze that had formed in the warm atmosphere and pick up the far wall. He suspected that might not be a bad thing, what he could see amongst the shadows was far from pleasant. The bodies in front of him had obviously died in pain and terror, their twisted faces screaming terror at him in silence. 

Sickened he turned away, not even bothering to attempt to count the bodies or find what they had died of. He staggered on, removing the safety catch from his rifle and fitting its bayonet, there was little chance of a peaceful outcome to his rescue mission now.

  
  


Captain, an unauthorised transport has occurred, Ensign Kala announced. Somebody has just beamed to the freighter. My guess is it is the Colonel gone to rescue Seven of Nine, she added glibly.

How did he access transporters? The Captain demanded angily. 

She answered her own question. I want him deactivated and removed from the ships computers!

I think we may have other problems, Ma'am, Ensign Carver intercepted calmly. Three small vessels have come in detection range, they appear to be similar to the ones that were attacking the freighter. At current speed they will be here in approximately two hours.

Orders Captain? Tom Paris querried from the Pilots seat.

Have you found Seven and Tuvok yet? She demanded of Kala.

Sorry Ma'am. I can't identify anybody, the Ensign admitted chastely.

We stay until we find them, she decided. Shields up, full power to weapons. Tom put us somewhere where we can intercept those ships safely.

  
  


Tuvok awoke slowly, shaking himself groggily from the blow on his head he started to examine his situation. He found he had been roughly strapped to a bench, the leather bonds cutting into his wrists and ankles, bright lights were shining down, he could feel the heat from them. Beside him lay Seven of Nine, also bound and lit in similar fashion.

"Seven! You are awake?" He asked cautiously.

"I am undamaged, but uncomfortable!" She responded calmly. "Why have they restrained us?"

"Their purpose is unclear, they may have believed we were hostile." He responded.

"They did not respond to our hails." Seven of Nine pointed out.

Their discussion was brought to a halt as two figures approached them. Tuvok examined them as well as he was able from his bench. They stood about 1.7 Metres tall and clad in what appeared to be a black leather material and obviously appeared to be a uniform. Their faces, covered in short fur, one a mottled brown, the other piebald black and white, showed long whiskers and a vee shaped mouth terminating in a flat nose, eyes were slanted the pupils elongated, they shone green as the light caught them. The top of there heads two pointed ears were prominent. He also caught a glimpse of a long tail, whisking behind them. A feline species.

"The rebels have awoken Tigra! It will be much more enjoyable getting them to tell us what we want to know now!" The piebald purred to its partner.

"I do not recognise the race." The one referred to as Tigra stated. "The darker one is similar to the Elgron's but is much heavier. The female is not recognisable. They must be mercenary rebels. We should start with the female first, it will weaken the male."

Seven of Nine and Tuvok looked at each other in concern.

The felines turned to their two captives. "Who are you?" Tigra demanded.

"We are explorers." Tuvok responded automatically. "We are from the Federation Exploration Ship Voyager, we intend no harm to you or anybody else. We know nothing of your Empire or rebels. We responded to a distress signal from this ship!"

"You lie!" The tabby spit.

"What is your race?" Tigra demanded slyly.

Tuvok replied for them both. "I am a Vulcan, Seven of Nine is a Terran from Earth. We are from the Alpha Quadrant, 20,000 light years from here. We are not part of your Empire!" He protested.

"You lie!" The tabby spat again. "How many are on your vessel, where is your mother ship?" 

The first raked a paw down Seven of Nines stomach and thighs. She could feel the nails catching the material of her suit. She gasped as an involuntary thrill ran through her body.

"This one is responsive, Tigra." He purred in delight, "Perhaps we can play with her properly after they have told us everything?"

Tuvok saw Seven of Nine's eyes open wide in distress and guessed from their actions the sort of games that these two would invent. He tried to divert them with the truth and a warning. "Our ship carries a crew of 143. They will respond violently if we are harmed.

There is one warrior in particular who is particularly attached to Seven of Nine. He will be very violent if she is harmed. We know he has destroyed many lives against a far more powerful enemy than you, many claim he cannot be killed! He spoke quietly keeping the desperation from his voice whilst attempting to intimidate their captors into withdrawing. We saw him kill the Knights of Cathor.

The final comment seemed to have an effect, one of the felines shuddered visibly. 

He is almost certainly preparing to board this vessel, if he is not already aboard, he will harm you, he continued, trying to milk the small reaction he had witnessed

"Heboran, take the rest and capture this unkillable warrior, if he exists. Bring him here, these rebels will see what happens to people who resist the Empire." Tigra commanded. At last they had a name to the piebald, it seemed of little benefit. 

"I will continue interrogating these two." He announced, again pawing at Seven of Nine's prostrate body. She squirmed violently against the onslaught, the strange erotic sensations that were being loosed as he scrapped his nails down her body then up the inside of her thighs totally unwanted.

"You should not do that!" Protested Tuvok sharply.

"Silence!" Tigra shouted, cuffing him violently across the face, his sharp and exposed nails leaving a bloody trail across his face. Then he turned again to Seven of Nine. 

His pawing was interrupted by sharp reports echoing through the corridor.

"Our warrior has found your party," Seven of Nine claimed confidently, attempting to regain her composure. "He will defeat them as he defeated the Borg!"

  
  


The Colonel, quietly slipping through the ships corridors, still managed to almost walk into the approaching posse of felines. Only his sixth senses saved him, he suddenly felt it tug at him as he rounded a corner. Quickly he sprinted back behind the corner he had just rounded and took up position, his rifle ready. A party of eight humanoid creatures rounded a corner some fifty yards away, they all appeared to be armed and walked openly. He felt no desire to challenge them, after what he had seen, so simply waited for them to walk half way down the corridor, the point of no return, then coldly opened fire. 

He fired eight shots and seven of his prospective opponents fell. The last turned and fled. Immediately he was on his feet and sprinting after him, leaping the fallen creatures. One of the fallen tried to reach for him as he leapt, he fired again at point blank range and it slumped back. He continued his full tilt run after the disappearing target. He quickly found he was being out distanced as he saw it drop to all fours and started to gallop. He gave up the chase and returned to his cautious advance as a junction of corridors faced him.

Again his sixth sense started to clang as he approached the junction. He divided across the openings, keeping low, gratified by the pulse of weapons fire passing safely overhead. As he landed he rolled back to his feet again and launched himself in the direction that the weapon had fired from rounding the corner with an ear splitting scream to meet his aggressor. It was stooping lower than he expected and sprang at him as he cleared the corner. It knocked the weapon from his hands and lashed at his face with claws. The Colonel leapt to avoid them, the claws hooked into his jacket, ripping it open. The flying leap brought him down on top of his aggressor and he found himself in a flurry of nails and teeth. They rolled over each other, he could feel the claws of his attacker ripping at his clothing, then the burning sensation of them tearing at his skin. It was faster than him, he realised, but not as strong. Desperately he struggled on top again and sought for it's throat with his hands, ignoring the flailing claws ripping at his own neck, he grabbed it and started to squeeze with all the strength he could muster, pressing his thumbs into the centre of the creatures throat and slamming the head repeatedly against the ground. Gradually it stilled and he slammed it down for the last time.

He stood up shakily and took a moment to examine the feline features of his enemy. "Bloody Cats!" He muttered. "I hate cats!" He kicked the inert body, then picked up his rifle and continued up the corridor.

An inevitable door faced him again, he could hear vague cries from behind it, they suggested he had finally arrived at the right place. Wishing he had a stun grenade, he opened the door and dived in, rolling to his knees he scanned the room with his weapon. He spotted the single feline creature standing beside a table and shot it without hesitation. It screamed and fell to the floor writhing. Ignoring it he got to his feet again and looked around, immediately spotting a flushed Seven of Nine and the bloodied Commander strapped to their respective benches.

"I can't let you buggers out of my sight for a minute," he commented dryly as he rallied his thoughts and cut their ties, starting with Tuvok. 

As he released Seven, she sat up and put her arms around him, kissing him firmly, then buried her head and emotions in his chest. Surprised he put his own arms around her and held her close. "You're quite safe now," He whispered gently in her ear. "I'm here!"

"You have a medical pack?" Tuvok asked, breaking them from their mutual affections. "We need to treat the injured feline Tigra."

The Colonel stepped back from Seven and examined her torn clothing, Tuvoks own slashed face, then bent to examine Tigra. He demanded irritably.

"He has a stomach wound, smashed kidney, from the bile I'd say a punctured spleen." He diagnosed. "An issue medi kit won't save his life, he'll be dead inside ten minutes. The best we can do is to stop it hurting." 

He produced a hypospray and used it quickly. "It's the best we can do and a lot better than you deserve you bastard." He hissed at him as he passed into unconsciousness and death.

"Put me in the Brig later." He hissed, before the shocked Tuvok could respond. "Now let me look at those scratches!"

"You have committed a murder!" Tuvok stated coldly.

"So has he and worse. I've simply put him to sleep painlessly." The Colonel snapped. "I will make myself available for judgement when we are back on Voyager."

"You have also been damaged?" Seven interupted the burgeoning arguement.

"Nothing too serious." The Colonel grunted. He turned back to Seven of Nine and put his arm around her again, supporting her. 

She had watched the Colonel dispatch her torturer coldly. She then had sat silently trying to match her conflicting emotions. She had been terrified as the creatures undesirable stroking had become more intimate, causing strange thrills of excitement and desire to course through her body, but equally the cold and clinical way the Colonel had despatched had also seemed wrong. 

The feel of his arm going around her again and his gentle kiss had the effect of pushing the thoughts away with the great flood of comfort he always seemed to bring, as he helped her from the table.

The Colonel seemed to pick up her thoughts and gently whispered, "Love me or loath me, it is your choice. I cannot help you with it this time. But remember what it was doing and intending to do. Tuvok will need your help before the end of today, and I will help you do your duty." Fighting off the desire to kiss and hold her closer, he released her, doubting such a tender action from him would be appreciated at the moment.

She stepped towards Tuvok and took hold of his arm. He shook it off and the Colonel shook his head sadly.

"Shall we find the remains of the ships crew?" He asked, leading the way to the door.

From a table in the room Tuvok retrieved the comms badges that their captors had ripped from their clothing and handed one to Seven of Nine. He activated his own and reported their newly regained freedom and the base facts of the Elgrons .

Very good, she acknowledged. We have more hostile ships approaching, prepare to beam out. It looks as though the Colonel may have been right, we have barged into somebody's war, she advised.

We will have to intercept the Colonel, Tuvok responded. He has witnessed some items that have disturbed him. I believe they may be worth investigating.

You have an hour, she signed off.

We had better catch up with the Colonel, Seven announced simply, picking up the tri-corder from the desk and activating it. At his normal pace he will be more than 800Metres from our current location.

  
  


They caught up with him ten minutes later.

This is the door into the airlock we were trapped in, Seven claimed. The remains of the crew are beyond the second door. However the lock itself is a trap.

Well we'd better spring it then, hadn't we? The Colonel announced evenly and opening the door.

From a pouch he pulled a bullet for his rifle and jammed it into the doors runners and stepped inside. He examined the floor and walls carefully, then to their surprise the rim of the door. It's not a well thought out trap, he commented at last, pulling something from the door jamb. Simple micro-switch, he showed them the item he had tugged from the wall.

This time they let the Colonel enter the hold that had started their problems. As Tuvok opened the door he dived in and scanned the surrounds, rifle levelled. He spotted two more of the feline creatures, he shot the one that reacted by bringing his weapon up to fire, then he targeted the second. 

"If you want to be a dead hero cock, then try bringing your weapon up to fire!" He called sharply, "Otherwise put it down and put your paws on your head. Either will suit me fine!"

The last of the felines having seen the dispassionate way that his companion had been dealt with put his weapon down in shock. The Colonel approached him, his own weapon still levelled and kicked the weapon away. "On the floor!" He demanded harshly. "Put you paws on the back of your head!"

The creature did as he was instructed and the Colonel, kneeling on his neck, carried out a rough body search for any concealed weapons. Finding none he demanded, "How many of you are there?"

"Eleven!" The feline answered in a strangled whisper.

The Colonel roughly turned him over and glared at him. "If I find you're lying I will rip you apart!" He hissed at it. "Who and what are you?"

"I am Feroska from Sharla in the Felongra Empire." he whispered plaintively. The glare he was getting from the steel grey eye's of the humanoid terrified him, there was no doubt, in his mind, that he could and would do as he threatened.

The Colonel stood, "Well Mr Feroska, I am Colonel Samuels, a human. If you don't want to get on the wrong side of me, then you had better become helpful, very helpful," He announced coldly, pulling him to his feet.

He turned to Tuvok. "Your prisoner, Commander!"

Tuvok regarded Feroska closely. He was young he decided, the smooth black pelt showed none of the matting of the other feline crew. "How many ships were there? Where are they?" He asked his questions, as the Colonel walked further into the hold.

"Six, three left to chase the other ship three weeks ago." Feroska answered quickly. "You won't let the animal kill me?"

"If you act as he demands, he will not harm you." Tuvok prophesised. In truth he realised that he would not be able to stop the Colonel, if he decided to be violent again. "What two ships were you chasing and why?"

"They are Elgron warships, fleeing with refugees from their home world. We have conquered it. The two warships were badly damaged and were only carrying a few fighters for protection but were trying to flee with a large number of their race. My squadron were ordered to track them down and bring them back for the mercy of the Emperor or destroy them if they resisted." Feroska explained, with increasing agitation as the Colonel returned, he was looking a little pale.

"How many Elgron were there aboard this vessel?" The Colonel roughly interrupted Tuvoks patient questioning.

"Four kilo!" 

The Colonel looked at him blankly at the mistranslation from the universal translator, then twigged the meaning. "And where are the other three and a half thousand or are they all in the other hold I found? Don't tell me they were all resisting, because I've just talked to one of the survivors." His voice was low and threatening.

"All warriors were executed." Feroska announced nervously.

"And the rest?" The Colonel forced again, "The civilian women and men?" Anger was clearly starting to show in his rising voice. "Where they 'played' with before they were executed? Was it cyanide gas you used or something more grotesque? Were you one of the perpetrators? Give me one good reason not to hang you on the spot?"

Terrified Feroska cowered away from him, "Yes they were, in another hold," he admitted softly. "I was not involved. I am an engineer, I was sent to get the drives operational for the return flight," he pleaded. "It is the Tallon's and Kataran's that do what you have suggested."

"I suspect to these people the difference is marginal" The Colonel hissed, "And the children left aboard are to return to your Emperor to become slaves?"

Feroska nodded unhappily.

Colonel Samuels turned to Tuvok and reported. "I have seen concentration camps and torture camps, I've even been interned in one for a short time! This is approaching the extreme."

"There are about 600 Elgron left aboard. They remind me of dainty elves, slanty eyes, pointed ears the lot." He admitted. "Most are children, maybe forty females. One of those is heavily pregnant, I'm not sure what is going to be produced. The rest of the crew were murdered, I've seen their bodies," he confessed. 

"There is another problem, I suspect there may be some cases of dysentry aboard. They certainly haven't been fed properly and I can recognise it from the smell in some of the camps I've worked in. It needs to be treated immediately."

"What are your recommendations?" Tuvok asked calmly.

He took Tuvok's arm and led him away. "I think we need the Doctor. I remember that treatment was fairly simple, using sugar and salt, but I don't know the proportions. Otherwise I suggest that we use Mr Feroska's knowledge to get this tub underway, he will have to be guarded though. I am also worried about Miss Nine. I know they didn't have time to do anything serious, but it will have had an affect. I don't think she's too sure she wants me to offer the comfort she needs. I know physical feelings are an anathema to Vulcans, but you may have to put them to one side for her sake!" He confided quietly.

"There are also three more Felongra Warships returning to finish what they have started. We have been ordered to withdraw," Tuvok said.

"We can't!" The Colonel protested, "Not now, not after what I've seen. We need to get this tub underway and at least give them a chance."

The Captains orders were specific, this dispute has nothing to do with us, as you originally pointed out, Tuvok pointed out.

the Colonel sighed. But we are involved now. And don't tell me you are immune to what you can see in here, otherwise I'll show you what they did to the rest of the crew.

I'll contact the Captain find what she wishes to do, Tuvok decided, reaching for his communicator.

It is dangerous to stay aboard that ship, the Captain complained, after being briefed by Tuvok.

Excuse me, Ma'am, the Colonel interjected. But have you ever seen pictures of the Holocaust', the extermination of the Jews in Germany. That is what we have here. I, we can't leave them to that fate, he pleaded.

The Captain was silent for a few minutes, taking in the Colonel's obviously agitated state, then came back. I'll see if the Felongra will let them go, there are no weapons left aboard the ship? She queried.

The only thing dangerous aboard this vessel is me, the Colonel assured her. And I will rip any cat that is fool enough to step aboard this vessel apart.

Again she was silent. Tuvok, if I say you must return, you will do so, with the Colonel. Shoot him if necessary, but he comes back. She closed the link.

"What are your instructions, Captain?" He asked loudly.

"I am not the Captain," Tuvok protested.

"This ship is not a shuttle, it is large enough to support itself so it needs a Captain," The Colonel pointed out. "There are no original crew members and you are the senior Star Fleet Officer, so you're it. I will therefore obey your instructions, as will Miss Nine and the rest of the survivors."

Tuvok frowned, forming another protest, then gave up seeing determination in the face of the Colonel. "More of your Regulations? Very well. See if any of the survivors have any ship experience. Then send them to the bridge with Seven of Nine. Then take the prisoner to engineering. Advise him his safety is assured provided he maintains propulsion."

"Sir!" The Colonel snapped.

"What role do you wish to take in your charade?"

"I will fulfil what ever role the Captain deems fit, and carry out his orders, Sir!" He responded. "I couldn't do that for a Lieutenant-Commander." He turned away to carry out the orders of his new Captain.

"My compliments, Ma'am," He addressed Seven of Nine formally and saluting. "Captains orders, would you make your way to the bridge and prepare to get underway, Ma'am?"

Seven of Nine turned to him in surprise. "Your formality is unnecessary." She started then stopped catching his reasoning without explanation. "I shall comply." She finished.

"Very good Ma'am. If you would care to wait a moment I shall identify a guide." He announced.

He walked into the midst of the huddled survivors. "Ladies, boys and girls, Who knows the way to the bridge?" He asked lightly. "Then the Captain can attempt to get you all away from here and somewhere safe!"

Six small hands lifted tentatively. "Good," He remarked. "Hop up. Now do any of you know your way around the ship?"

One more hand lifted from the crowd. "Excellent! You have all been deputised into Star Fleet. You Ma'am will be my guide." He indicated the new volunteer.

He turned back to his first group. "You four will escort Miss Nine to the bridge, you will respond exactly as she orders." He ticked off the first four, three boys and a girl. "You two will make yourselves available to the Captain."

He watched the youngsters lead off to Seven and Tuvok as he had designated. He knelt before the young girl who had volunteered for service as his guide. "Now my dear, what is your name?" He asked gently.

"Esme, Sir!" She replied coyly. "Are you a Hunter?"

"I'm Colonel Samuels and yes I suppose I am a Hunter of sorts, I'm called a soldier on the world I come from. I try to protect those that can't protect themselves. How old are you?" He took her hand lightly in his.

"Nine Sir," She responded stoutly.

"Is your mother still among the crowd?" He asked very gently.

The girl swallowed hard, "They took her away." She sobbed bitterly.

"Okay, he said quickly. Is there an adult in a fit state to work?"

She shook her head.

"In that case go and find half dozen friends you trust and bring them here." He ordered softly, then shooed her off to carry out the instruction.

He turned back to the prisoner. "Mr Feroska. My Captain has ordered me to offer you safe passage, if you are prepared to man and maintain the ships engines and assist in any other engineering task required to make the ship operational. Is the offer acceptable to you, Sir?"

"If I refuse you will kill me?" The young Felengran asked nervously.

"It is a distinct possibility," the Colonel admitted.

"I will obey." He announced quickly.

"Thank you, it may help make amends for the mess your people have made here."

The Colonel's work party turned up. Esme saluted him amidst shy giggles, the party seemed to comprise of girls all about Esme's age.

"Our first port of call will be the ships galley." he announced to them, "Come along please Mr Feroska."

  
  


The Captain on severing the link to her Security Officer, sat and swallowed hard for a few minutes, trying to decide what to do, she had rarely heard the Colonel so adamant or agitated. Silently she damned the Colonel's attitude for pushing her towards the action she was now preparing to take.

Her thoughts were disturbed as Chakotay returned to the Bridge and took his seat beside her.

Have you ever heard of the She asked him quietly.

Yes! It was during the Second World War, the Nazi government in Germany systematically executed a religious cult, He admitted in surprise. 

The Colonel says that is what is happening over there, she responded. How do you know about it?

There was a discussion about the Cardassian invasion of Bajor. A couple of the crew claimed that the conditions in the camps were bad. The Colonel told them they knew nothing about harsh conditions and proved it by providing archive photo's of the survivors. The argument stopped there and then, at least the Cardassian's fed their prisoners.

She nodded uneasily, Chakotay's description reinforced the opinion she had formed from the Colonel.

Hail the Felongran warships, she sighed, it was time to try her ultimate test of diplomacy.

  
  


Seven of Nine had watched the Colonel get to know the helper he had selected and considered trying to emulate his manner, then realised she couldn't keep it up. "Your designations?" She demanded coldly.

One of the boys spoke up for the party. "I am Elrond, my brother Lunned, Casper and Athena, Ma'am." 

"Your designations are acceptable. You will take me to the bridge," she ordered.

"Yes, Ma'am," They chorused. Elrond led the way from the hold, the others formed a convoy around her. The girl shyly took her hand. Seven pondered the situation for a moment, then accepting it, perhaps they both needed some comfort, she decided.

The Bridge was a damaged but serviceable. It looked as though that it usually housed a crew of about sixty, Seven decided.

"Describe the functions of the stations?" She demanded of Elrond, who appeared to be the oldest of the party.

"The four at the front are for long range detection." He started. "The six behind control Navigation, two behind are the pilots consoles. Those four over there and the ones opposite are the ships gunnery positions. Then there are the twenty positions for fighter control, six for hanger approach, two for communications. Eight Engineering stations."

"That is sufficient." She stopped him, deftly she stepped towards what was evidently the command position and studied the console.

She hit her communicator, "Seven of Nine to Tuvok. I am on the Bridge. The equipment is primitive, but adequate."

"Get the sensors operational, then take position at the pilots console ready for engines to come on line." He ordered, "I'll join you shortly."

She dispersed her crew to man the long and short range sensors. 

  
  


Tuvok had elected for a tour of the ship from his two young guides. Seven of Nines call had caught him feeling rather depressed. His Star Ship command was likely to be his last if they were attacked again. the vessel simply required too many crew to make it work efficiently.

"Tuvok to Captain." He intoned.

"Captain Janeway, here. May we be of assistance Captain?" Janeway responded, using correct protocols for talking to a commander of a major starship.

Tuvok ignored the protocol. "We have secured the Elgron ship. Colonel Samuels and a captive are attempting to get the engines online. Seven of Nine has taken position on the bridge ready to pilot the vessel." He reported.

  
  


The Colonel's group entered the ships galley, it seemed, compared to Neelix's sad little Canteen, to be a warehouse. The Colonel whistled.

"Ladies," He announced, "I want you to find as much ready food as you can. Particularly vegetables. Put them on that counter." He indicated a large bench that ran down the centre of the galley.

"Mr Feroska, I'd like you to start by getting the range working and put some pans of water on to boil, these people need feeding before they become too ill."

His party set to work quickly and a mound of unidentified foodstuffs appeared quickly.

"Chop it up into pieces, about this big." He demonstrated what he wanted to them. "Don't cut yourselves though. When you've done that share them among the pans Mr Feroska has started and let them boil until soft. Add salt until you can all taste it, then a little sugar until the taste goes. Mash it all up and serve it to everybody in the hold. It'll taste vile for a soup, but it will fill stomachs."

He left them to it and turned back to the feline engineer. "Thank you Mr Feroska. That was your first small step to recompense, doesn't hurt does it? Shall we have a look at the engines now?"

Feroska led him out of the galley and down a long corridor. "If the roles were reversed and the Elgrons had captured us, who would you fight for?" He asked quietly as they walked.

"It is not my war." The Colonel pointed out coolly. "Subject to any other orders, I would fight to protect those that cannot defend themselves, and show what mercy was deserved, whatever their race. As you will be doing something I cannot do for the benefit of others, that includes you. It is what I have done for most of my life."

Feroska went silent, until they entered the machine hall of the ship. He quickly ran up and down the ships engines, stopping suddenly to inspect items.

"These two engines are undamaged." He announced. "The power couplings have become disengaged. If you will help we can move them from the outer engines. The ship will have some headway."

"What do you want me to do?" The Colonel asked.

"Pull these tubes as I release the clamps. Plug them to the ports on the good engines so that I can secure them." Feroska insisted.

"Carry on Mr Feroska." The Colonel agreed.

For twenty minutes they worked feverishly, finally the Colonel opened his communicator. "Colonel to Bridge. We have power on engines four and six, it should give about 20% power. Mr Feroska will attempt to carry out more extensive repairs on engine five. He will advise on the ships com when available."

"Confirmed." Seven of Nines voice responded from her bridge vigil.

"Thank you again Mr Feroska." The Colonel intoned. "Can you manage on your own for a while so I can check on my other work party?"

"You do not wish to guard me?"

"Do I need to? You know what I am likely to do if you attempt to double cross us, and I think you like your work too much to try anyhow. I wish to over a small show of confidence, in you and you need feeding as well. I apologise for the standard of the food in advance, but it will be nourishing."

"Thank you!" Feroska sighed, regarding the tall human. Blood from the battle he had had earlier was still showing through the tears in his uniform, but he seemed impervious to them and the pain they must be causing. "You make friends easily."

"I tend to deal with enemy's in a similar fashion." The Colonel pointed out, and left him.

  
  


On the Bridge Seven of Nine relayed the message to Tuvok.

"I will be there directly." He informed her.

She turned to Elrond who had commandeered the pilots seat next to her. "You will activate these controls at my command, she indicated a number of buttons on the console.

"Yes, Ma'am." He announced importantly.

She moved to the close range scanning stations and adjusted the controls. The equipment was too primitive to respond as quickly as she wished, but they did show the approaching Felongran ships and Voyager moving to intercept them.

"Left helm. Full power to engine four." She commanded.

Slowly the giant ship commenced a turn as her young pilot carried out her instructions.

"Straighten helm. Full power to engine six." She commanded and the ship started to make head way.

"Report?" Tuvok demanded, stepping onto the bridge.

"Felongran warships are approximately 45 minutes from intercept. Voyager is intercepting. The vessel should achieve a maximum velocity of one quarter impulse." She announced coolly.

"Permission to step on the Bridge, Sir!" A familiar voice came from behind them. The Colonel stood in the doorway, bearing a tray of four mugs.

Tuvok turned to him. "Where is Feroska?" He demanded.

"Stripping down engines trying to get at least one more operational." The Colonel replied levelly. "I've sent one of my party down with a ration pack. She'll not be harmed," He continued. "On his subject he's actually quite a good sort."

"And you have there?" Tuvok asked cynically.

"Lunch for our younger crew. It tastes foul, but to them it will be nectar. They've not eaten for three days! I've brought up a ration pack for you."

"You are a never ending source of amazement." Tuvok informed him calmly. "Not content with the murder of Ferongan, you befriend a prisoner, allow him to operate unsupervised and feed the refugees."

"One can only have so many enemies, Captain. Sooner or later the killing has to stop and people become friends and trust each other again. It may surprise you, but I do not enjoy killing." The Colonel replied equally calmly, handing out the mugs to the young crew. 

They pulled faces at each other as they tasted it, but drank it none the less. He then gathered the mugs in again. "Do you have anymore orders, Sir?"

Tuvok shook his head, as much in wonderment as in denial.

"In that case I shall return to the cargo bay and see if I can find proper accommodation for our passengers." He announced.

"You should have your wounds treated." Seven announced calmly from her command console.

"Aye, Ma'am. I shall treat them when everything has been sorted out." He agreed amiably and left them before she could respond further.

"You may attempt treatment." Tuvok offered. "He will not treat the wounds otherwise." He added wisely.

Seven got up from her seat and left.

  
  


She found him in the hold with the refugees. He was kneeling beside the pregnant female, holding her wrist.

I will treat your injuries, she announced calmly.

There's no time, he said simply. Get onto Voyager, we need the Doctor, this woman is going into labour, her waters have broken and the contractions are coming every five minutes or so. I think she may be too weak for it.

Voyager is beyond transporter range, she advised. It will take twenty minutes for them to return and then we will be under attack.

Bugger. Where is the ships medical bay? He demanded of his young assistants.

Three decks down, came the reply. 

Too far, he cursed under his breath.

Hold on Duck, I'm going to take you somewhere a little cleaner and comfortable, he whispered gently in the ear of the Elgron female and picking her up gently in his arms.

State your intentions? Seven queried coldly.

You and I are going to play midwives, the Colonel claimed. Bring the medi-kit, we're going to need it.

She followed him curiously as he carried the pregnant woman gently from the bay and into an empty room.

You have performed this procedure before? She asked.

he admitted. But this one is going to be difficult. I don't think the babies head is locked down properly and I'm not sure I can force it. It may be too late, that's why we need the Doctor, she needs a Caesarian, we may loose both.

He turned back to his patient. I'm afraid this is going to be painful, Duck, he whispered, gently stroking her hair.

Esme appeared with her friends bearing bowels of water and towels.

Leave them there then leave and make sure we're not disturbed, he ordered, pointing to the wall.

They did as he bid and left quietly, sensing the seriousness of the situation.

Do you have potential names for the baby, He asked his patient, trying to sound cheerful, it sounded hollow.

What is your name? The woman asked weakly.

Lieutenant-Colonel Alan Samuels, Ma'am, he answered softly.

Not Elgron, she smiled. Use that for the baby, or your mates if it is female. She closed her eye's in pain. My name is Eunice.

We are not married, Ma'am, the Colonel confessed. Just close friends. Have you had a child before, Eunice?

Two. They were lovely children, before the Felongrans came.

So you know more about it than I then, he confided. 

You know how to pant and push down? He continued quickly.

She nodded.

Try it now, pant! He insisted. Miss Nine, a mild stimulant please.

Gently he probed the woman's abdomen, pressing hard. He let out a small shout of triumph as he felt the baby move and lock into position.

I think we may be in for some luck, it's in position. Now wait for the contraction, then give it everything you've got, he exclaimed.

Her face contorted in pain and she released a scream as a powerful contraction came on.

he urged, shouting above her screams. Come on put some effort into it woman. Push!

Seven of Nine instinctively reached for the woman's hand and gripped it tightly, willing the pain she was obviously suffering from to disperse.

the Colonel sighed as the contraction subsided. Everything seems to be ready, it's entirely upto you now Eunice. Miss Nine, moisten a towel and bathe Eunice's face, it's going to be a long haul.

  
  


I am Captain Kathryn Janeway of the Federation Star Ship Voyager, Captain Janeway announced to a red furred Felongran who had finally appeared on the view screen.

It had taken nearly forty minutes for them to respond to Voyagers incessant hails, as they had circled the larger vessel uncertainly, but they had finally replied.

Your intrusion is not required, the feline announced flatly. Your rebellious action will result in the destruction of your ship.

We are not rebels, the Captain answered honestly. We came to the aide of a vessel in distress.

The vessel is not in distress, came the reply. They will serve the will of the Emperor.

There not in your space, she pointed out reasonably. Why not let them go. They are no threat to you anymore and we will make sure they don't return.

They will act against us in the future.

Six hundred children are going to take on the might of the Felongran Empire in a ship with only just enough power to move and you're afraid of that? The Captain asked in surprise. It will take thousands of generations before they are in a position to do that and in that time your Empire could grow or disappear in favour of a more liberal regime!

They are now the subjects of the Felongran Empire. Your interference is tantamount to declaring war upon the Empire, the red furred Felongran persisted.

Would you care to discuss it like civilised life forms? The Captain suggested.

No! Surrender and we may spare your lives so that you may serve the Empire!

I will not surrender. From what we have seen your assurances are less than worthless, she responded sharply. Why did your boarding party gas the Elgron's?

They were showing resistance to the Empire and trying to escape.

You attacked them, they didn't have a chance to resist, she corrected him.

Surrender and place themselves before the Emperor's mercy.

If the positions were reversed what would you do if you wanted to protect your children? The Captain continued doggedly, angling for any chink in the felines dedication to the Emperor'.

I would destroy the enemy, the reply hesitant.

Would you send your children in to fight as well?

They would remain with the family.

And if the family has been exterminated as well, what would happen? She demanded, sensing a weakness forming. You do protect and care for your children?

They will die, the Felongran admitted.

You wouldn't put them on a ship and send them to safety if there was a chance? She prompted.

The Felongran opened to speak again then shut it again as he seemed to consider his response. His attention was diverted by another Felongran approaching him and whispering in his ear.

Turning back to the screen he demanded, Where are you heading?

We are returning the Knights of Cathor to their home world, in exchange for information that may take us home, the Captain admitted. 

There appeared to be another hurried discussion aboard the Felongran ship, before the Felongran commander spoke again. We are prepared to allow both the Elgron vessel and your ship to go, provided you turn the knights over to us.

The Captain demanded again, the new tack of the discussion taking her by surprise.

My orders say they will be of service to us that is all, the Felongran announced candidly.

I'll get back to you, after I've talked to the knights, she assured him.

Captain Janeway, I must inform you that my squadron is converging on this point. If you refuse our conditions we will destroy your ship, the Felongran announced and cut the link.

Call Tuvok. Transfer to the Conference Room. Chakotay get the knights up here. I want to know what's going on, she ordered quickly. Ensign, you and the Dog Watch find a tactical solution, then report. The Colonel says you are good at that.

She moved towards the Conference Room for a few moments to think.

  
  


Forty minutes after the Colonel had carried Eunice into the impromptu Labour Ward, Seven of Nine's state of increasing nervous tension was broken by a squall as the Colonel finally delivered the baby Elgron. For the whole time she had been mopping the mothers head with a towel, applying stimulants at the Colonel's command and most strangely, or so she considered, gripping her hand as the pain of her contractions seemed to transmit themselves to her. She was quite simply exhausted, but was not given the time to relax before being called for the next step.

Miss Nine, could you take the baby please, while I deal with the cord and placenta, the Colonel commanded quietly, deftly he wrapped the new born in a towel and placed it still screaming into Seven's unprotesting arms, then proceeded to tie and cut the umbilical.

We're nearly there, Eunice. Just a couple more pushes and we can lose the placenta as well, I can see it, but I can't get it, he encouraged, turning back to the labouring woman.

She tried pushing at the Colonels command. 

Got it! He announced, One more good push and we'll have it all out!

Again he performed the ritual tying and cutting, before examining the mother one last time. 

Not a split to be seen, no needle work required he announced thankfully. 

Are you sure you've only had two? He accused lightly, You must be an excellent mother!

Eunice smiled and blushed visibly. I'll just help Miss Nine to clean him up, give him a once over then you can have him? He offered.

He took the baby from Seven, who was gazing at it in stunned and silent amazement and laid it upon the floor, cleaning it head to toe with more damp towels. Let's see now, he muttered as he did so. Two eye's, green like it's mothers, one nose, two nostrils, a mouth, good lungs, two arms, five fingers on each hand, two thumbs, two legs, twelve toes and .. He paused for a moment. Thankfully female. Congratulations Eunice you appear to have a perfectly healthy baby girl and she will grow to be as beautiful as her mother! He announced cheerfully, gently wrapping the babe in a clean towel and offering it to her mother. Meet Seven of Nine, the younger!

The designation is inappropriate, Seven of Nine protested, causing the other two to turn to her in surprise.

That is your name? Eunice enquired weakly. I would like her to bear your name so you are remembered.

Borg do not have names, they have designations, Seven flustered. The baby is not Borg. My name before assimilation, Anneka, would be more appropriate, it will have significance to all of us.

Eunice smiled gently. Much better. You should be united, she claimed quietly, holding Anneka closely she seemed to drift to sleep.

The Colonel screamed, snatching the baby away and thrusting it into Seven's arms again. You're not going to die on me!

Immediately he injected stimulants and applied mouth to mouth resuscitation, desperately trying to bring life back into the woman's body.

He gave up after ten minutes and fell to his knees in defeat, head in his hands. I'm sorry! Seven heard him plead.

She has ceased to function? A still confused Seven enquired.

It was too much for her, she needed a caesarean and I can't do that! The Colonel bleated, looking up. She could see the tears rolling down his cheeks.

Seven stood stunned, she had never seen the Colonel cry like that. She wondered how he could allow himself to become so attached to anybody so quickly and as deeply as that. Gently she laid the baby aside and held him, pressing his head against her shoulder and rocking him, trying to comfort him, but unable to find appropriate words.

Finally he looked up. I'm sorry. But I thought we had got away with it. It was such a pointless death.

What should we do with the infant? She asked in perplexity, it's plaintive cries had started again and it was sending shivers into her darkest soul.

Send Esme to find some baby milk and bring it to us, he suggested, We'll go and see the Commander and find out what is happening.

  
  


The Felongran's have demanded you in exchange for the safety of this ship and the Elgron vessel. Why do they want you? The Captain demanded as the ex-knights of Cathor entered the conference room.

Because they want the crystals, Gwyndal replied honestly. They have designs on increasing their Empire, possibly over Cathor. The crystals might help them.

What state are relations between them and you?

We weren't at war when we left, a number of trade agreements existed when we left, if that's what you mean, he answered quickly.

Tuvok, are you there? The Captain asked.

Yes Captain. We also have visual communications, he announced, his face appearing upon the wall screen. In the background they could see the bridge of the Elgron ship, with Seven of Nine and the Colonel standing quietly in the background. The Colonel seemed to be holding something.

You have been briefed? She enquired quietly.

Ensign Carver has supplied a synopsis, Tuvok agreed.

You opinion?

The situation appears to be grim, Tuvok agreed again. Ensign Carver believes we can defeat the three vessels, however the six that we believe are in the squadron would be difficult. We would suffer severe damage.

What are your opinions Colonel? The Captain asked. I know you are listening. What are you holding?

he responded. May I present Anneka, this ships youngest crew member, all of thirty minutes old, he held the baby up for them to see.

You've been busy then. Is there anything you don't do? She commented.

Simply doing my duty Ma'am.

As to your first question. I haven't the benefit of any tactical brief, I was otherwise engaged, he added apologetically. Miss Nine believes Voyager is faster than the enemy, you could make a break for it?

What about the Elgron's?

I'll stay and defend them for as long as possible, Ma'am, he answered levelly. I owe it to them, Anneka's mother died after the birth and in my care.

I'm sure you did your best, the Captain assured him.

Irrelevant, Ma'am. I failed, he responded flatly.

I can't let you do that, you are a member of this crew, she snapped.

Captain Janeway, may I speak? Gwyndal interjected, before she could protest again.

She nodded dumbly.

We have studied your records about your beliefs and the Colonels actions. We have come to the conclusion that your combined ideals are beyond our abilities.

Go on, she prompted.

We have decided that two of us will go on the Elgron vessel to replace the Colonel and two of us will surrender ourselves to the Felongran, to give them the assistance' they demand.

I'm not surrendering anybody, the Captain refuted.

You must, Gwyndal insisted. Your vessel is not powerful enough to survive prolonged combat with the Felongran. If you destroy the first squadron, they will come at you with hundreds more, and to skirt their space out of their range will require years. Nor could you protect the Elgron, their ship will remain vulnerable and your ship is not big enough to support another six hundred passengers. Your rules state you must protect the largest number possible group at minimum risk and the Felongran would not dare harm us, he coaxed.

Where would you take the Elgron's? The Colonel interjected.

You met the Valorians a short while ago, perhaps they would except refugees from a similar situation?

Seems sound to me. This ship needs somebody who can point it in the right direction, the Colonel agreed gruffly. Could we supply them with a shuttle to take them home again, Ma'am? He added.

she agreed. But what about the Felongran?

I will send them in the wrong direction, Gwyndal announced confidently.

But you'll never see Cathor again! She exclaimed, perplexed.

D'Argonaic and I are getting on, we never expected to see Cathor again, Gwyndal answered sadly. Our part of the quest has been completed, it is time for the younger ones to complete our duty. Paul Sant will complete our quest with your help.

Colonel? You can't allow them to do this? She called, trying to stop things getting carried away.

If nothing else suggests themselves then I would agree with Marine Gwyndal's assessment, he agreed. If you think you can trust the cat on the other end. Personally I wouldn't trust them further than I could swing them, but then I hated cats with a passion before I met this crowd, Ma'am.

Finding nothing helpful in the Colonel's words either she turned to Chakotay. He shrugged, not liking what was being proposed any more than the Captain.

If we let you go, she said slowly, addressing Gwyndal. Could you be released again by diplomats from Cathor?

I'm sure we would be, Captain. The Felongran will not risk a war with Cathor, he agreed quickly. Too quickly for the Captains comfort.

I don't like it, she announced. It goes against all I believe in, but if we can't find another solution we'll do it, she decided reluctantly. Meeting dismissed.

The rest of the room leaving her sat in her seat, still pondering the situation she had got them into.

Excuse me, Ma'am? The Colonel's voice disturbed her thoughts.

I thought you'd signed off! She sighed.

I owe you an apology, if that's what you stayed for then you've got it, she claimed. I'm about to surrender two men to a cruel race.

For the sake of six hundred odd defenceless civilians and your crew, Ma'am, the Colonel finished for her. I was wrong, Ma'am. Not you. These people needed help. If it only takes the lives of two to do it then the deal is good. I admit it hurts though.

Thank you, I appreciate your words, she admitted quietly. Is there anything else?

I've just been talking to Miss Nine. She thinks we can improve the odds a little, he offered.

I'm listening, she said, picking up some hope.

Our captured engineer, Feroska, thinks he can get four of the ships engines going again. Miss Nine has pointed out that the outriggers on this ship form over five million tonnes of dead mass. She's looking at discarding them, the ship should reach near light speed. Given a couple of hours start they would be out of Felongran sensor range.

But Voyager couldn't survive a couple of hours in combat, the Captain pointed out.

No, Ma'am. But we can track them a lot longer than they can track us. I doubt they could track the Flyer with it's adaptive shielding or the Valorian fighter at all. 

We could give them what they want and take it back again later, she smiled suddenly. I'll get on to it.

We would of course become persona non-gratta with the Felongrans, he reminded her.

But we should be able to keep out of their way, she claimed confidently. It might take a little longer, but we can do it.

She got up and headed for the door. Thank you again, she claimed turning back to the now blank wall panel.

Hail the Felongran ships, I think we have a solution, She demanded crisply stepping back on the Bridge.

Your decision, the Felongran commander purred confidently to her.

We agree to your conditions, she announced, ignoring the questioning stares from the crew. We will hand over the two knights we have, as soon as we are satisfied the Elgron are safe. Say four hours.

The Felongran considered the proposal. The alien Vessel was certainly powerful and fast, he did not relish trying to attack it. The four hours would give the reinforcements to arrive in case the aliens refused to honour their acceptance and in that case the Elgron vessel would not get far. Your conditions are acceptable, he agreed finally.

The Captain turned to the Bridge. Here is what we are going to do!

  
  


The Colonel went to find Feroska in the Engine room.

Mr Feroska, you will look after these engines for a few months, until the Elgron find a new home! He tried to make it sound like a question, but failed.

Do I get a choice? Feroska queried.

Not really, the Colonel had to admit. But if you don't it won't be me that kills you. It will be squadrons of your own people that are undoubtedly converging on us.

This ship isn't fast enough to escape the fighters, I can only repair the four engines, he pointed out.

I know, so we're going to loose some weight. Like the two outriggers and the unserviceable engines, any spares you need I suggest you take them now, the Colonel urged. I'll send some help down as soon as it arrives.

I'll ensure that you can return to your family, when your mission is complete. Should you wish to do so, he consoled. 

Though when you've seen where we are hoping to send the ship you might not want to, he added impishly. If I was your age and I didn't have anybody special, I think I would be tempted to stay.

He left the feline Engineer and returned to the hold of survivors where he was joined by Seven of Nine. Your injuries have still not been treated, she scolded when she found him.

He sighed, They seem to be healing as they are, he commented. Still do your worst, he challenged, pulling off his battle dress jacket.

It was where the Captain and Doctor found them thirty minutes later. They were sitting cross legged in the middle of the hold. The Colonel was evidently telling a story to the enthralled crowd that were sitting around him, whilst Seven appeared to be nervously feeding the new baby Anneka. The Captain allowed herself a sly smile at the sight. 

They stood and watched silently as he finished the tale, then approached them.

They stood as they came close and he saluted the Captain. Ma'am, may I take the Doctor to have a look at some the more seriously ill? He requested immediately.

She nodded her approval.

So this is the new crewman, she commented easily to Seven as the Colonel led the Doctor away and peered at the infant. Who named her?

It was a mutual agreement between myself and the baby's mother, Captain, Seven announced holding her out for the Captain to take.

I've held a baby before, she confided to Seven, who was hovering nervously as she repositioned it in her arms to get a better look. I was even present at a delivery and nearly passed out. Who delivered it?

She was delivered by the Colonel. I assisted, Seven announced, correcting the terminology. Was there a sense of pride in her voice the Captain wondered.

I think you are actually enjoying being mother, the Captain teased, seeing the Colonel returning, sans the Doctor.

I am unsure of how to care for an infant, Seven admitted. It is a new experience, the Colonel however appears to know about them and their care.

But I don't know a thing about science, mathematics or engineering, that's why I love you, you stop me making a fool of myself, the Colonel announced happily rejoining them and kissing Seven on the cheek.

The Doctor has confirmed my diagnosis and is treating the Elgron's accordingly and teaching them to treat themselves, Ma'am. He should be finished in an hour, he reported.

What about the baby? The Captain asked shrewdly. I think Seven is falling in love with her. Should we keep her?

He looked at Seven, carefully summing up the bond that she seemed to be forming with the infant Elgron before replying.

In my experience, Ma'am, babies do four things all anti-social, they drink, sleep, cry and produce the most incredibly smelly nappy's, he confided. Oh yes, they scare their parents witless as well. Miss Nine are you ready for sleepless nights of worry?

Concern for your safety provides sufficient sleepless nights, she assured him uncertainly.

You love them as well, Colonel, the Captain laughed, pointing out the obvious.

Only if I can give them back, Ma'am, he assured her cheerfully. I have taught some of the kids how to look after her until the adults are able to take care of her properly.

You'll have your turn and with your own! The Captain assured Seven gently as she handed the child back. Make the most of this chance until then.

Seven's blushed visibly at her comment. 

She returned to the business in hand. We are laying charges to separate the ship from the outriggers. We'll be finished in an hour, is there anything else we can lose?

Mr Feroska is looking at losing the dead engines, Ma'am. He would appreciate some help, the Colonel suggested.

I'll send a party to help him, the Captain agreed. Is there a guide we can use?

the Colonel called his young assistant. 

Gather your work party together and show Captain Janeway and her team the way to Engineering. Make sure they don't get lost, he ordered of the young girl as she presented herself.

How about navigation? The Captain demanded as she took Esme's offered hand.

The children on the Bridge are proving adequate, with proper guidance they will be efficient, Seven claimed.

The Captain nodded. A compliment indeed, she agreed wonderingly. I'll send the knights up to get to know them. Seven supervise the placement of charges, Colonel help the Doctor and entertain the survivors, we'll rejoin Voyager before we spilt the ship up.

  
  


A little under an hour later the Captain called her crew together. Everything is set, she announced. We're leaving a type 2 shuttle in the hold for the knights to use to return to Cathor when they have taken the Elgron to safety. We'll beam aboard Voyager and amuse the Felongran until the ship is out of sensor range. You know what course to steer from then on, she finished, directing her comments to the two volunteers.

Esme gripped the Colonel's hand fiercely. Must you go away? She sniffed plaintively.

The Colonel knelt infront of her and replied honestly. Yes. My friends need protection even more than you do. That is why we are leaving the knights and Mister Feroska to care for you all.

He continued more loudly, ensuring that everybody in the room would hear, particularly the two knights. You know what knights are don't you? They are people that bear the utmost in integrity and honesty, they defend the weak and helpless. These two are better than that, they are soldiers and will lay down their lives to care for them as well!

Getting up again he approached them. Gentlemen, I'm sorry we never got the chance for you to show me how good you are or will be. So I'm taking it as read you have learnt something.

He reached into his pocket and extracted three fabric patches which he handed to the two stunned knights. I haven't time to make it formal, so I'll give you these now on the condition that you complete your duty. These are the emblems of my Regiment on Earth, wear them with pride, remember what they stand for and don't disgrace them. There is one there for Mister Feroska.

Standing back he slammed to attention and saluted them. Carry on gentlemen! He turned smartly and marched back to Voyagers party.

Voyager, energise! The Captain ordered as the Colonel slammed to a halt.

  
  


Separation is complete, Seven announced fifteen minutes later from the Science Station on the Bridge. The main proportion of the ship is accelerating quickly in line with predictions. They will be out of Felongan sensor range in ninety minutes.

Captain, The Felongrans are demanding to know what happened, Tuvok announced.

Tell them there is still two hours to go before we hand the knights over as agreed, she responded. Are Tom and B'Elanna in position?

The Flyer is still in the Elgron outrigger, Chakotay confirmed, They'll move when the Felongrans do.

Good, so we sit and wait, she agreed. Neelix, bring hot coffee to the Bridge!

Permission to be excused, Ma'am? The Colonel asked from his station.

Don't you want to see if we succeed? The Captain asked in surprise.

Don't need to. You've decided it is going to work, Ma'am, the Colonel commented. My role in the matter is complete and I am still relieved of duty, he reminded her.

She nodded. You may go.

Seven, follow him, she added as the lift closed behind him. Make sure he doesn't do anything rash. I think what he saw on that ship has hurt him more than he is letting on. He might appreciate someone to listen to him for a change, she added wisely.

I shall comply. Seven moved for the door.

  
  


She followed him to Holodeck one and watched him activate the deck and enter before closing herself and inspecting the programme. It was a new one to her, Saint Christophers' the screen told her, it meant little to her, so she waited exactly thirty seconds before entering herself.

She recognised it when she entered, it was the church she had visited with the Colonel and members of his regiment on Earth. She wondered how he had produced the programme.

At the far end of the isle lay the alter and a dozen uncomfortable pews lined each side of the centre aisle. The church organ was sat back to the left at the front, the pipes could clearly be seen towering to the roof, on the opposite side was the choir stalls and a big stained glass window allowed light to enter and shine upon the alter and the Colonel kneeling before it. He seemed to be concentrating in prayer.

She moved forward silently and cautiously.

It's a very aptly named church for a ship in the middle of nowhere, the Colonel said suddenly as she closed behind him.

She demanded.

Saint Christopher, patron saint of travellers and the lost. It sums us up to a tee, don't you think?

We are not lost, Seven pointed out cautiously.

Perhaps you're not, but I seriously wonder if I am, he replied unhappily. I keep running into things I've seen before and desperately wished never to see again. I've seen rooms full of tortured people like the Elgron too many times. People whose only fault is not being the same as or as strong as somebody else. It hurts so much it makes me feel sick to the stomach and beyond.

She knelt beside him and placed an arm around him in comfort and was surprised as he half turned, kissed her passionately, then buried his head in her shoulder and cried. She held on to him grimly, pulling his head more firmly in her shoulder and swallowed hard as waves of pity flooded her, prompting her own eyes to water.

  
  


Tom and B'Elanna waited impatiently aboard the Flyer for the signal to follow the Ferongans. They had located the shuttle in the outriggers hanger as Voyager had sent all her serviceable shuttles to the Elgron vessel on the pretext of carrying supplies and equipment, gambling that the frequent coming and going would confuse the enemy into not noticing that a shuttle had remained on the ship. So far it had seemed to work, certainly there had been no alarm raised. Now they had to simply wait for the signal that told them that they had left, it was proving dull, especially as they had another of their frequent arguments that morning and neither was exactly talking to the other, using the clipped monosyllables of those that aren't talking but need to convey messages to each other.

Finally Tom Paris could stand the strain no longer. He asked quietly.

She snapped at him irritably.

He swallowed nervously. Would you marry me?

She snapped. You're a low Targ.

Because I love you, he explained simply. And I have a ring!

She prepared to snap back, but stopped. Show me, she demanded. If this is a wind up I'll kill you!

He carefully reached into his tunic pocket and pulled out a small leather bag, this he fumbled with until a golden object fell out. He checked to make sure it was the right one, then nervously held it out to the Klingon female. She snatched it out of his hand and examined it closely.

It is beautiful. What is the stone? she asked, melting as he watched. Who made it, the Colonel?

It's a Fire Opal', he claimed. We, I mean I, thought it suited you. And I made it.

You never, where did you get it? She demanded incredulously.

I did, he announced proudly. With some help from the Colonel and he gave me the stones and the gold.

Where did he get it from, he's not been taking equipment? she asked suspiciously.

They came from that pouch he carries. He thinks we can make a go of it, Tom Paris answered hurriedly.

But isn't that what he calls his retirement! She exclaimed. What about Seven?

Yes it is. But he says he has some for her, Tom confirmed. He thought our needs were greater. 

I don't think he thinks she will accept, he added mournfully.

B'Elanna laughed suddenly. Slipping the ring firmly onto her finger, she slid forward and embraced the surprised Tom Paris passionately. 

He knows so much about everybody else, why can't he see Seven and himself, she laughed, wiping tears from her eyes. He really is terrified of her isn't he?

I don't know, probably, I'm terrified of you, Tom Paris stammered. And you still haven't answered the question, will you marry me?

Voyager to Delta Flyer, Transfer is complete, the Felongran are moving away, Chakotay's voice interrupted B'Elanna's reply and she returned to her seat.

Tom applied drive and the shuttle slipped out of the remains of the hanger and pitched for pursuit.

Adaptive shielding active, B'Elanna announced smoothly. Course 302 mark 140.

Are you sure? She asked as they chased the Felongran warships. I'll probably break your arms, possibly your neck!

Tom Paris considered the prospect. Should be coming into transporter range in five. Yes!

I have them on sensors, they're in the centre of a six ship formation. We need to get among them! B'Elanna confirmed.

Tom modified course and the sat and watched uncomfortably as the shuttle sidled past a Felongran ship.

I have a lock, beaming them aboard now, B'Elanna shouted as the two Cathor knights materialised in the Cabin.

Get us out of here before somebody looks out the window! She demanded.

Yes, Ma'am! Paris agreed, hauling the shuttle around and applying full power.

I will, she added, moving forward to kiss Tom Paris, as things settled down again.

Delta Flyer to Voyager, mission complete, Tom announced happily, We're on our way!

The two knights watched silently in mystified amazement as two different conversations seemed to fly around them.

  
  


As soon as the Flyer docks, get us out of here, maximum warp, the Captain demanded as Tom Paris's message came in. I'm going to the shuttle bay.

Using the Computer to locate them, she modified her route to include Holodeck One so that she could collect Seven of Nine and the Colonel.

She quickly took in the scene that presented itself as she entered. The Colonel was sat at the organ in the corner, playing quietly. Seven stood next to him singing Ave Maria, her hand on his shoulder. She stood and listened for a moment then walked quietly towards them.

Seven spotted her and moved to meet her halfway.

What's with the simulation? She asked.

Some of the things the Colonel witnessed on the Elgron vessel were discomforting to him. He came here to pray, Seven explained quietly. He has recovered.

With your help? The Captain commented.

I was of assistance, Seven confirmed.

The Flyer will be docking in fifteen minutes, will the Colonel be there? Captain Janeway asked quickly.

We will comply, Seven responded stoutly, turning back towards the Colonel.

She smiled fondly at the sight of the two together and turned to continue her trek to the shuttle bay. She didn't see Seven bodily lift the Colonel to his feet and hold him upright until he could stand himself.

  
  


Tom and B'Elanna seemed unnaturally buoyant to the Captains slightly jaundiced eye as they disembarked, even for a successful mission in potentially hostile space.

The Colonel, who had arrived with Seven of Nine as the shuttle had docked, was more practised at picking up small details. He picked up the ring on B'Elanna's finger.

You've asked at last Lieutenant and with an adequate response? he hailed the jubilant Tom Paris.

The Captain looked at him sharply, she wanted the debriefing report, not cryptic questions.

Yes, Sir! Paris snapped quickly.

B'Elanna marched directly towards Seven and embraced the surprised ex-Borg. Thank you, she whispered simply. And I apologise for what I'm going to do.

Letting her go she moved to the Colonel and kissed him squarely on the lips. He staggered back in surprise. Lieutenant Torres, you can't do that sort of thing now, you're engaged! He stammered.

Because of you! She hissed happily, kissing him again then turned to the Captain to explain her behaviour.

Captain, Tom has asked me to marry him! She announced breathlessly, presenting the new ring on her finger to the amazed Captain.

Giving up on any sense after the display, the Captain grabbed B'Elanna's hand and brought it closer to examine the strange jewellery fixed to it. 

She exclaimed under her breath. He said he was making one, but that is gorgeous.

Debrief in one hour in my Ready Room, for the two of you, she added, releasing the hand. Let's get back to normal. This is a Star Ship, snap to it!

I hope the one you make for Seven is going to at least match that one, the Captain whispered to the Colonel as she passed.

Every thing is for the best in the best possible world, Ma'am, he responded. They'll not have a real blow up for at least two months, make the best of it.

Revision 23

  


  
  



	7. Greeks, Dragons and Beasties (New 28/3/0...

**Of Greeks, Dragons and Beasties**

  


  


_Seven of Nine loses her mind. Mythology meets the future and big business as the Colonel and the Captain struggle to get it back..._

_Voyager and the characters aboard her (except the Colonel) in this story are copyright of Paramount. No resemblance is intended to any person alive or dead._

_The story line and the Colonel are my own._

_Constructive criticism and comments are welcome on e-mail story@rgower.f9.co.uk ._

_If like me you like to know why things occur like they do, I would heartily recommend you start with the Colonel. _

_This story is rated PG on the UK sensors ratings_

_©R Gower 2000_

  
  


Provarich desperately searched for her mother over the fields outside their roost on Trelwa. Despite her excellent night vision and natural telepathic detection, she could not detect her parent. She must be in the next valley, she reasoned. Out of sight, she certainly was not the reason for her being disturbed. 

She alighted in a tree to work out what to do next and what had actually alarmed her so much that she had considered it essential to flee the safety of the roost.

She had the distinct feeling that it wasn't safe to return home. There had been alarm tinged with fear there, she had felt it coming at her in waves.

Sub-consciously she started to preen her long flight feathers, getting them ready for instant flight again, using her hard beak to zip the fronds together as she held each one with her hands.

She started, the feeling was there again, stronger, naked terror was showing this time. She leapt into the sky again, circling to gain height, desperately trying to identify the direction of the feelings that seemed to bombard her from all directions.

Suddenly she heard her mothers screech. "Provarich, Flee!" she screamed.

Desperately she searched for her mother. She spotted her flying low and fast. Not her usual leisurely slow and silent hunting pace, but the speed prompted by terror. She could see her wings flapping in the short stabbing of movements of a racer. 

She could feel her mothers terror now, it was sheer and naked, hitting her like a physical blow. Then she saw her twitch and bank to avoid something and drop from the sky.

"Mother!" She screamed in alarm, turning towards her and diving down to her.

Shadowy figures appeared by her mothers figure, they seemed wrong to her but she didn't stop to work out why. They knelt by her mother as she dived at them and seemed to inject her with something, Then she was among them knocking them over, lashing at them with her talons.

She felt something grab her bringing her down, saw something looming over her, then there was blackness.

  
  


She awoke again in a darkened room. Her arm was around something firm and warm. 

Perhaps it had been a dream, the terror she felt last night, she thought hopefully, and Mother had brought her prey to eat. It seemed too large, even for her mother and father to take together and he had been lost many moons ago. 

She was certainly hungry enough to eat something the size of what was infront of her after the terror she had felt, she decided.

She leant forward to rip into the things flesh with her powerful beak, but couldn't break the skin. In desperation she tried to rip it apart with her claws, but there seemed to be something wrong with them as well, the talons were missing, they simply scratched into the surface.

Panicking again, she desperately tried again, burying her beak firmly into the creatures neck and lashing at it with her claws...

  
  


The Colonel awoke with a strangled scream as Seven of Nine attacked him violently, burying her teeth into his neck and lashing at his stomach. Desperately he grabbed at her flailing arms, forcing them away from him with all his strength as her Borg enhancements forced them close again, then twisted, ripping her teeth from his neck.

He forced her onto her back, pinning her to the mattress, then desperately tried to lock her long legs down as they swung to the attack.

"Computer Lights!" He screamed as he finally managed to subdue the struggling woman underneath him.

"Seven?" He called quietly. 

"Seven!" He called in alarm again, as she snapped at him as he leant forward to kiss her.

"Seven, what's up?" He tried again, keeping a more circumspect distance between himself and the snapping teeth. He could feel the blood trickling down his neck from where he had ripped himself away from the bite.

"Provarich! Let me go!" She cawed at him, snapping again as he leaned forward.

"No, I'm not. You might try to attack again," he reasoned. "Now what is the matter, Miss Nine?"

"Not Seven. Not Mith Nine," She rasped again. "Provarich!"

"Dreadfully sorry," he answered, sarcasm entering his voice. "You were Miss Seven of Nine, when you went to bed!"

It dawned upon him that there was a serious problem forming. "Computer. Site to site transport. Two to sick bay. Medical emergency," he demanded, risking grabbing a handful of clothing before the Computer could respond.

"Please state the nature of the medical emergency?" The Doctor queried as he materialised.

"If I knew that I probably wouldn't be here!" The Colonel snapped, struggling to keep control of the violently struggling blonde and put her on the couch.

"Miss Nine has taken a violent turn, tried to rip my throat out," he explained. "Keeps going on about 'Provarich' and claims not to be Miss Seven of Nine."

"Hold her down, I'll activate restraints," the Doctor responded.

"I'm trying Doctor," the Colonel hissed, still struggling. "But parts of her Borg anatomy are a damned sight stronger than me and she can be a stubborn bitch when she wants!"

Together they forced the still struggling woman onto the couch and the Doctor thankfully activated force field restraints to hold her down.

"She is quite safe now," the Doctor assured him. "You had better let me have a look at your wounds."

"Not until you've looked at Miss Nine, Doctor," the Colonel insisted, pulling on the shirt he had managed to grab. "I'm sure they are quite superficial, whilst there is something very amiss with Miss Nine."

"Maybe she has decided you really aren't worth the effort," the Doctor started cheerfully. "I must inspect your wounds first."

He stopped as his eye's caught the Colonel's glare that promised a violent end to him if he didn't comply. Even a hologram can be afraid for it's physical well being, given absolute and certain knowledge of it's impending fate.

He stepped back to Seven of Nine and started scanning her with a medical tri-corder. "There is a lot of activity in her Hypocampus, and there are neurones firing around that aren't going anywhere," he announced.

"Her what?" the Colonel snapped.

The hologram sighed. "Look it up?" He suggested.

"How do you spell it?" The Colonel spat back.

"It's the part of the brain that defines who and what we are. In Seven's case it is heavily influenced by the Borg implants, in yours by the fact you are a primitive ape," the Doctor explained quickly.

"Thank you. Now can you treat it?"

"It has happened before, with an infected Vehniculum," the Doctor explained. "All I could do was to suppress the effects for a while."

"Doctor to Captain," he continued to the intercom.

"Janeway here!" Came a drowsy voice.

"I think you had better come down to the Sick Bay," he announced. "I have Seven of Nine and the Colonel here. It looks as though Seven has had a run in with a Vehniculum again."

"I'll be right there!" She responded, snapping awake.

  
  


In her quarters she struggled into her uniform and raised the Bridge.

"Scan Sub-Space for any unusual activity, or Borg signatures. Tuvok to the Sick Bay!" She called heading for the door.

She reached the Sick Bay to find the Colonel sitting talking quietly to Seven of Nine and the Doctor in his Office working at the terminal.

"Report?" She demanded, bringing the Doctor hurrying from his Office and the Colonel hurriedly to his feet.

"Miss Nine woke this morning feeling like a Miss Provarich and decidedly peckish," the Colonel announced, rubbing his throat tenderly.

"The readings from her Hypocampus were going wild, like they did last time," the Doctor inserted hurriedly. "They seem to be stabilising, but it is not Seven of Nine."

"I've been talking to Miss Provarich nee Nine, Ma'am," the Colonel said. 

"She claims to belong to the race of Carragh, or as near as I can pronounce it," he admitted. "It actually sounds more like the result of pushing somebody of a cliff. Still allsorts."

You've had experience of pushing people of cliffs? She queried coldly, uncertain whether to laugh or take him seriously.

Once or twice, Ma'am, he responded neutrally. And there have been a couple who I would happily push off one just to see the response. 

However they are, or possibly were, a race of beings that had the capability of flight. As well as some more obscure abilities, including telepathy, at least some form of it. They could transfer thoughts and feelings between themselves."

"You have been busy," the Captain complimented him. "Anything else?"

"She is proving quite co-operative, Ma'am," the Colonel claimed, ignoring the compliment as she knew he would. "But it is proving hard work The universal translator is unable to follow her speech and I'm not the worlds greatest linguist, so we are using a mix of bad Pidgin and hand signals. Perhaps Mr Neelix or the Cathors know something of them?"

"Could Tuvok get to her with a mind meld?"

"She may accept it, Ma'am," the Colonel agreed. "I'll try and ask her. But she is very scared."

"Commander, care to meet our bird in hand," the Colonel offered.

"Captain, he asked me to repair his implant," the Doctor confided as the Colonel took Tuvok away. "I said no!"

"Considering how close they are, I'm surprised he hasn't asked before," the Captain observed. "But it might be necessary, if Tuvok can't find her. I don't want a heartbroken Colonel on my hands as well as our other problems!"

  
  


"Provarich?" The Colonel asked quietly, approaching Seven cautiously.

She watched him equally cautiously, as he presented his hands to her palms first in a gesture of openness.

He put his hand on Tuvoks shoulder. "Medicine Man, Friend," he pronounced. "He talk like you? No noise?" He indicated by tapping his head and hers then pressing a finger to his lips.

"Friend? Talk like Carragh?" She said slowly, seeming to understand the meaning of the primitive dialect.

"Is there a set of rules for your childish speech pattern?" Tuvok asked blandly.

"Either she will at least partly understand you and will let you try your meld, or she won't understand a word of it and she will object," He hissed back quietly. "You speak like you normally do and I'll guarantee she won't understand more than one word in twenty. Simply because I don't understand a third of it." 

With those comforting words Tuvok approached the bed slowly and hands held open as the Colonel had. and settled by her head. She studied his brown face and pointed ears with mild curiosity. As he put his finger tips on her scalp she stiffened.

"Medicine Man?" The Colonel assured her, taking her slender hand in his and comforting her as best he could. 

She did not relax, more, she grew stiffer as Tuvok began the required chant to allow him to join in a meld.

Suddenly Tuvok screamed and fell backwards away from the prostrate woman.

"Tuvok?" Called the Colonel, trying to release the hand he was gripping. She wouldn't let him go, instead she gripped harder, digging her nails into his flesh.

Accepting the fact she wasn't going to let go willingly and accepting that Tuvok was still moving, he called for the Doctor.

He arrived at the run, the Captain following closely behind. "What happened?" He demanded, seeing Tuvok on the deck.

"I think Miss Provarich had a violent exception to Tuvoks Mind Meld. She's locked her hand into mine and doesn't seem to want to let go," the Colonel explained quickly struggling to get her to release her grip.

"Medicine Garyach," she stammered. "Medicine bad!" She continued trying to explain in the broken Pidgin she had learnt and shaking her head violently.

"Okay, Duck. No medicine man," he assured her. "Could you let go of my hand, please?" he tapped it gently. She looked at him in confusion.

"Me see big Chief," he tried, again articulating with signs as much as the words he was using. "Tell him no Medicine? Me take you somewhere safe?"

She nodded uncertainly and he felt her release her Borg enhanced grip, allowing him to pull his hand away and shake some life into it again.

"Some more scratches for you Doctor," he commented, seeing the blood well up where her nails had dug in to him.

"I've got to have the link back, Ma'am," he said quietly to the Captain, leading her away from the room. "And I wish to move her away from Sick Bay."

"It's too dangerous," she claimed. "You saw what she did to Tuvok!"

"Tuvok's Mind Meld is intrusive, Ma'am," he pointed out. "He forces his way in because there isn't time to do anything else. We need to treat Miss Provarich as a frightened animal, let her come to us."

"It's still too dangerous!" She announced. "Perhaps the Cathors can help us."

"Perhaps they can, Ma'am. But if they can't then we are back at square one, with the body of a crew member and the mind of somebody totally different. The two can't live together," he urged.

"Why must it be you, what if she kills you?" She questioned.

"The first is a damn fool question and you know the answers, Ma'am. There is nobody else and I am in love with her. As for killing me. Well nobody else has been able to yet. But I would give everything to protect Miss Nine. It is only because of her efforts I've been able to accept the situation I'm in and not continuously look like the simpleton I am. If I lose her what have you got? A caveman with a big knife. Please, Ma'am. We've got to try!"

"There is some logic to the Colonel's arguments," Tuvok announced joining them. "I failed because I tried to enter her mind and she reacted violently, the Colonel has a rapport with Provarich and Seven, she may allow him entry. They have both proved capable of controlling each others excesses and the Colonel has also proven that he can control the power available in the link upto and beyond it's design criteria. There is reason to believe he could do so again."

The Captain considered the proposition for some time before responding. "Doctor, prepare for surgery. Tuvok, you and B'Elanna will concentrate on getting the implant operational again," she ordered. "I'll go and talk to the Cathors."

"Thank you Commander," the Colonel breathed gratefully.

"Your thanks are inappropriate," Tuvok announed dispassionately. "Your efficiency together is much greater than your individual abilities. Considering the level of your infatuation, the loss of one may well lead to the loss of the other for a significant period of time."

"Thank you anyhow, he claimed again. Doctor, I'm going to take Miss Provarich nee Nine, back to her quarters. Then you can have a go at my neck as well," the Colonel announced. "She'll feel safer there. I'll lock her in and try and persuade the replicator to feed her with raw meat. Then we'll feel safer as well."

He turned back to Provarich and gently helped her to her feet and led her from the sick bay back to his quarters.

"You safe here? You stay?" He insisted as he ushered her into the room. 

He approached the replicator. "Meat red uncooked," he demanded. It paused for a moment and something shimmered into existence.

He took it and smelt it carefully. It could be what he asked for, he decided. It certainly seemed to meet the requirements of his guest, when he presented it to her, she bit into it with some gusto.

Satisfied that she would come to no harm, he took her hand and kissed it gently. "Me back soon. You stay, eat?"

"Me eat, Me stay!" She agreed happily.

He left her to see the Doctor again.

  
  


B'Elanna Torres and Tom Paris were together when the call came from Tuvok for her to report to Engineering. 

They had spent most of the night planning for their forthcoming wedding. Strangely it was proving to be more difficult than they had imagined. But they wanted it to be perfect, even with the limited choices available aboard a ship.

Reluctantly she rose from her seat and headed for the door. The call was undoubtedly urgent, but she had been enjoying the planning of her big day.

"What's up," she demanded casually.

"We need to repair the Colonel's implant. I shall clarify the situation in Engineering," was all the answer she received from the taciturn Vulcan.

Making a shrewd guess she turned back to Tom Paris. "I suspect that the Doctor is going to need help. There must be a problem with Seven, or the Colonel, she called.

"Fine," he answered. "If I get the chance I'll ask him as we discussed."

  
  


Two hours later the Colonel recovered from the delicate operation that was involved with removing and replacing the Borg implant that had saved his life some months before. He sat up slowly as the Doctor fussed around him with the tri-corder.

How do you feel? The Captain asked nervously.

A slight buzzing in the ear and a mild headache, Ma'am, he reported mildly. 

I can tune that out, the Doctor announced adjusting the implant. I've also made an adaptation so that I can keep an eye on your brain activities on my tri-corder.

You can turn that off. Now! The Colonel demanded, taking the Doctor's tri-corder from him. My discussions with Miss Provarich will remain as private as we decide to make them. I'm not having you tapping in.

I'll have to remove the implant to do it! The Doctor protested.

Set up on this tri-corder is it? The Colonel asked, laying it gently on the bed beside him.

the Doctor admitted.

Is it repeatable? Did the Captain order the modification?

I've not downloaded the code to the main computer, the Doctor admitted. And the modification was made without the Captains knowledge. It's a safety feature.

So nobody will mind if I do this then, the Colonel exclaimed, bringing his fist down hard onto the unsuspecting instrument. 

There was a loud cracking noise and the Doctor made a despairing dive for it, before it toppled onto the floor. He was checked by the Colonel catching it himself. He shook it gently before presenting it to the shocked Doctor. It rattled.

Your toy Doctor. Don't try it again, he growled with real menace in his voice.

I'm sorry, Ma'am, he apologised mildly. I don't like people eavesdropping and there are times that they may not like what they hear and see.

She nodded uncertainly. I'll see if B'Elanna can take the circuit out after this mission is complete, she offered.

Thank you, Ma'am. It may prevent people getting the wrong end of the stick. I'll go and rescue my maiden in distress, he announced mildly.

What you did was a very bad move Doctor, the Captain admonished the Doctor harshly. He was only just getting to trust you again. Any action like that must be sanctioned by me and the person we are intending to do it to. Otherwise we end up like the Borg.

I'm sorry, Captain, he apologised quietly. It was meant as a safety feature so that if he got in trouble we would have a means of getting him back. I had no intention of using it to snoop.

After what you've seen of him in action. When has he got himself in anything he can't get out of again? She asked, smiling grimly.

  
  


The Colonel stood at the door of Seven's quarters and swallowed nervously. He was by no means certain that he could do as he claimed, but he was determined to try. He chimed the bell.

Who there? Came a voice from inside.

Me, Colonel! He called back. Me come in?

He opened the door carefully, uncertain of what may be waiting for him. She may have tried to get out herself and found the door locked. The anger and frustration that the situation would bring on was, he suspected, likely to end with him fending off nine stone of spitting hellcat.

As it was he found her sat, or perhaps perched, on one of the rooms chairs, regarding him cautiously.

Tentatively he reached out with the new implant.

I am sorry I've been so long, he thought. I had to get this implant repaired. Your predecessor found it helpful occasionally.

Her eye's opened in astonishment as she felt his thoughts waft towards her. She leapt to her feet and growled at him in anger.

I won't try and invade you, he tried to reassure her. But perhaps we can talk easier like this? 

I know you are able to read minds in your native state. I think you can now see mine. I want to help you show me about you, he continued.

she stated eventually, gaining control of Seven's implants.

If you will permit me. I'll show you some of the ship and take you somewhere where we can see your world? He offered.

Take me home! She demanded.

If it is possible, he agreed. But we have to find your home and we need your help and the help of the woman you've taken over. If we can find her!

Not taken over. I am Provarich! The thought hit him like a physical blow and he winced.

Please, not so hard, he chided. The implants only just been refitted and I haven't entirely got control of it yet. I think we will go by the Promenade then you can see where you are?

He led her from the room, placing his arm around her waist in the natural and unthinking way he usually held Seven.

Not agreeable! She snapped at him and the intrusion.

I'm sorry, my fault, he apologised. Miss Nine often liked the close contact. May I offer my arm to guide you instead?

They compromised on holding hands as he led her through the maze of decks until they reached the Promenade. There she gazed out the window in astonishment, obviously she had never seen such a sight, the Colonel decided.

You see all those stars out there Miss Provarich, there are millions of them, he whispered. Awe inspiring isn't it and I want to find the one you belong to. We need your help to find it and why the body you are using is not yours!

You can find my home? She whispered back.

I hope so, he agreed. Come with me and you can tell me about it. Perhaps we can find something that others aboard the ship can recognise?

He led her away towards the Holodecks.

Now let me see if I can guess what your world looks like, he suggested as they entered. Computer display landscape, local plains, cliffs and mountains east and north, thick forest, deciduous, south, he demanded.

The room shimmered as the required scenery displayed itself.

How's that for a first draft? He asked quietly through his mind.

No smoke coming from them, she complained pointing at the hills. No homes either!

Computer make mountains into semi-dormant volcanoes add caves.

Again the Computer complied.

Ground wrong colour, she complained again.

What colour would you like? He asked.

He sighed, If you're sure. Computer make grass purple!

They kept it up for nearly two hours, by which time she seemed content with her surroundings and the Colonel's head throbbed from the effort of using the implant. Together they sat on the ground and observed their surrounds.

It's not what I would call pretty, the Colonel remarked finally. But if it is your home then I hope this will be a comfort.

Thank you! It is home, she assured him.

In that case we had better put some people on it, he suggested. Describe your mother and father?

No father. He was taken moons ago! she announced sadly.

I'm sorry, I never met my parents at all, he confessed. But we can create him for you here, if you wish?

Gradually she described her mother, with the Colonel interpreting her description into a holographic model as she spoke.

Again the process took several hours, but they finally sat back and admired it. It was a mixture of things the Colonel decided, humanoid in the fact that it walked upright, but there it wandered off in different directions. The head had fine feathers and a strong and vicious looking eagle beak, but were also replete with intelligent human eyes and fine ivory skin. It's torso was also covered in fine feathers and they led to long arms and legs. The arms ended in long fingers, tipped with three inch talons making up nearly a third of their length. The legs ended in the claws of a bird. A three foot long tail led from the base of her back, again it was softened by feathers, but still looked as though it may belong to a lizard. The crowning item was the huge wings that were mounted upon her shoulders, they glimmered gold in the Holodeck's yellow sky. He estimated they were a good fifteen feet in span and softly feathered for near silent flight.

If you take after your mother, then you are a very handsome creature, the Colonel admitted warily. You'll excuse me if I don't bring her to life just yet. I suspect she might become very protective of her daughter if she finds a strange man sat on the grass with her. I don't want to be disembowelled yet!

Now what else have we, he pondered. The other creatures, your prey?

They kept working for another six hours by which time Provarich appeared to be in her element and the Colonel's head pounded like a steam hammer.

I think we will leave it at that, he suggested at last. My head is killing me. Will you be happy here for a while whilst I see the witch doctor to get something to ease this head, or would you prefer to return to Miss Nine's quarters?

You are sick? She inquired.

Nothing that can't be treated, he assured her. I will need to bring some people in later to have a look and see if we can prompt a few memories, will that bother you?

No. Not if you are here, she agreed.

Good, I'll take my leave and activate your mother to keep you company. Remember she is only a replica I can't give her back to you, he warned. But perhaps you won't feel so lonely?

She smiled at him shyly.

He left to find the Captain and Tuvok waiting outside. 

She demanded.

Please, Ma'am. Don't shout, he begged. I've a prize headache from the strain. Could I get something to treat it, then come and see you?

You've been with her for nearly ten hours are you getting anywhere? She demanded.

I think so, Ma'am, he responded tiredly. I'll tell you she isn't a space explorer. But I do know what her planet looks like and some off the constellations. I wish it hadn't been Miss Nine she materialised in, things may have been a little easier.

He leant into the wall burying his eye's into his arm as a bolt of pain hit them from his headache.

Go and see the Doctor and get some rest, she demanded gently. We'll reconvene in the morning to discus the situation.

Thank you, Ma'am. I recommend that nobody without a death wish goes onto the Holodeck. Her mother is a fearsome looking beast he sighed.

What is your opinion? she asked Tuvok as the Colonel staggered off around the corner. I know you are forming one.

It seems unlikely we will find Provarich's home world, he responded flatly. Or if we do it will be of significant benefit.

Do you think he doesn't realise that, she responded curtly. Have you any better suggestions?

No, Captain! He admitted.

  
  


The Captain gathered the Knights of Cathor and Neelix into the Conference Room early in the morning and gave them a broad description of the previous days activities. They now waited impatiently for the Colonel to join them. When he had woken he had insisted on going to see Provarich before joining them and had spent an hour with her. Finally the door opened and he stepped in with the blonde hanging onto his arm nervously.

You seem to have a way with young women? The Captain commented dryly, as they stepped over the thresh hold.

It's all a matter of time and patience, Ma'am, he commented coolly. As we are here to discuss Miss Provarich, it seemed appropriate to invite her to the meeting so she knows what we are discussing.

We aren't going to speak in Pidgin for her, she protested mildly.

It will not be necessary, Ma'am. I think I can translate most of it, he assured her, leading the woman to a seat and settling her in it before taking the one next to her.

You had better start? The Captain invited him. How far have you got?

First I'd better remind you that Miss Provarich is less spaceman than I am, he started to explain. She is also young and hasn't reached maturity for her species. So what I've got is a description of her planet. It's sun and the stars that shine at night. I know it will make finding it somewhat harder than we would like, but a challenge is what makes things worth the effort.

The planet is probably smaller than Earth. Certainly the gravity is lower, about 60% I estimate. The sky is pale yellow, it makes the two suns look slightly green. Temperature about average shirt sleeve, say about 70º Fahrenheit. The planet is largely purple, the grass is purple the mountains are purple and frequently volcanic. The trees are strangely blue. Miss Provarich claims there are large bodies of water, but doesn't know how big they are. They are drinkable and they are pink in colour. At night there are many stars, some of which they have named as star signs, similar to ancient Greek practice. In fact looking at a couple, they did look like ones I remember from Earth and the names are passably similar.

What are they? Kim interrupted.

The Great Bear and Orions Belt, he answered.

I may be able to get Astrometrics to trace them, Kim announced. 

I hoped you might. You can have a look at them later, they have been modelled in the Holodeck, the Colonel informed him.

Now where was I? Ah yes! The creatures themselves! Miss Provarich herself, would appear to be similar to the Griffin in ancient mythology. Head and wings of an Eagle, tail of a serpent et al. They live in small family groups. Standard prey are creatures rather like Minotaurs, bodies of cows, head, chest and arms like humans. It seems they don't have everything their own way and the Minotaurs will kill them if they get the opportunity, sort of on going war. But every now and then somebody or something appears and captures one or more of both races and then disappear. It is what Miss Provarich thinks happened to her and her mother. They also have a number of Gods', for some reason some of them seem familiar as well. The head appears to be a deity called 

Not deity. Real! Interrupted Provarich in her broken Pidgin. See her once! Provarich much scared! 

He patted her hand comfortingly. Okay, a king pin called he agreed.

You mentioned a link to Greek mythology. Is there a reason? Do you know Greek Mythology? Chakotay questioned.

Very little, apart form the Trojan Horse. But I saw Hollywood interpretations in my misspent youth, the Colonel admitted. And what Miss Provarich has modelled for me downstairs bears a reasonable likeness.

Do you have any opinions? The Captain queried.

A few, Ma'am, he confessed. Though I don't think they will help us a lot.

Let's have them, they are likely to be as good as anything we have at the moment, she prompted.

he sighed. First I am almost certain that there is no Borg influence. In fact as something periodically takes a couple of examples, I am inclined to describe the place as more of a zoological park or breeding farm. He suggested.

The races are in themselves quite primitive and they maintain no real record of what happens. If this Hydra' exists I wonder if it may exert a telepathic hold on them, perhaps to keep them off balance a little.

How did Provarich get into Seven? B'Elanna demanded.

I don't know, he admitted. I was hoping that somebody else could give a better guess than I could. All Miss Provarich knows is that things went black and when she woke up she was minus a few important details. Like a beak that can snap iron bars. Claws that can dismember a bull and a set of wings.

They sat in silence for a couple of minutes as they reflected on what they had been told, before Paul Sant cleared his throat.

Captain, I know of a planet where they claim to have displays of incredible creatures. It isn't the world that the Colonel has described, but they may be able to tell us where we should look? He opined.

Where is it? she demanded quickly.

It is deep in Felongran Territory, he said apologetically.

Could we get there undetected in a shuttle? she asked immediately.

We would have to circumvent their detection grid and avoid numerous patrols, he pointed out.

Tuvok, see if we can jam their detection grid. Harry try and find this planet from the constellations that the Colonel and Provarich have modelled. Colonel try and find out more from Provarich, she ordered quickly. They are both long shots, but they are all we've got to go on with.

The meeting broke up leaving the Colonel sitting disconsolately with Provarich. He was approached by Tom Paris, who coughed nervously to attract his attention.

Yes Lieutenant, he sighed.

Colonel, I would like to say that B'Elanna and I will do everything we can to help you get Seven back, he started.

I have a horrible feeling we are clutching at straws in the wind, he replied sadly. But I thank you for your consideration.

You know the Captain has given her permission for B'Elanna and I to marry, Tom continued.

The whole ship heard the whoop of joy. Congratulations, I hope you make a real go of it, the Colonel affirmed.

You've done a lot for us. We were wondering if after this is over, you would be my support? He asked uneasily.

The Colonel stared at him. If you mean Best Man, the role should be offered to your closest friend, Ensign Kim, he pointed out mildly. If he refuses and I'm still around, then I would consider it a great honour to make sure you tie the knot in the right style.

Just don't guarantee I'll be available until we've finished, he claimed, getting up and offering his arm again to Provarich.

Come along, Duck. Let's see if we can find more icing for your cake? He suggested gently.

She took his arm again and they left for the Holodeck again.

  
  


Eight hours later the Captain held another short meeting in the Conference Room.

She demanded.

I have six potential systems that match the constellations that match those in the Holodeck, Kim announced in satisfaction. The Colonel claims that four of them are similar enough for Provarich to accept them.

I have calculated a means to render the detection grid inoperable for a period of twenty minutes. It would be sufficient for a shuttle to penetrate, Tuvok agreed calmly.

We've found the closest point we can reach to the planet that Marine Sant has identified. It will only be six hours in the shuttle, Tom Paris claimed.

She announced. 

Paul Sant, the Colonel, Provarich and I, will go to this planet and on to Provarich's home world if it is reachable. Chakotay will take command of Voyager and render assistance if needed, she decided. This is a long range strategic rescue mission. It may be dangerous and may take some time. But we've done this sort of thing before and we will be successful, she finished with upbeat confidence she didn't entirely believe.

Set course and keep working to reduce the options. We launch first thing in the morning, she added.

She took the Colonel aside as the others filed out. We may not be successful, she pointed out. What will you do if we can't find a cure? I can't search forever.

I know, Ma'am. I'll keep searching. However long it takes. There is a cure out there, he responded flatly. I may have Miss Nine's body, but it isn't her without everything else. Miss Provarich accepts that and wants out as well.

She nodded, We'll search as long as possible, she assured him gently.

  
  


Ten hours later she was sat nervously behind the Colonel as he piloted the captured Valorian fighter towards the Felongran detection perimeter. She had decided to use the Valorian craft in the belief that it would be less likely to be noticed as a strange craft in hostile Felongran territory. She hoped she had made the right choice. Voyagers shuttles were faster and had better shielding, but perhaps the Colonel, with his better understanding of the strange crafts controls and grim determination never to be beaten, would make up for the differences, or at least she hoped so.

Coming into range of the grid, Ma'am, he interrupted her thoughts.

Voyager activate the power surge, she commanded over the subspace link they had established after launch.

Detection system out of action, Tuvoks voice came back a few moments later. Estimated effective time fifteen minutes. No sign of Felongran patrols.

She commanded

At her prompting the Colonel opened up the fighters engines for maximum thrust, sending the small ship hurtling through the gap that Voyager had created, then pitched the ship on it's course for their target.

  
  


For six hours they soared through the Cosmos, then the Colonel altered course and speed dramatically. 

Small patrol detected, Ma'am, he announced, explaining his action. I think they have detected us, they have altered course. I am aiming to sit on a small moon until they go again, there is one about twenty minutes from here.

They're hailing us, she announced, flicking controls.

Unidentified vessel you have entered a restricted zone. Surrender or you will be destroyed, the speaker crackled.

The Colonel queried.

I don't think they will be very friendly if they find out who we are, she mused. Can we out gun them?

I don't think so, not without bringing more of them down on us, he admitted.

I'll try to stall them, she decided opening a channel. This is Captain Kathryn Janeway, we are explorers from another Galaxy, we know nothing of your Restricted Zones'. If you can direct us to a less restricted zone we will gladly comply.

Her reply was answered in turn by a plasma bolt striking their small craft.

Definitely not talkative, the Captain affirmed. You'll have to do what you can.

I'll try, Ma'am, the Colonel agreed twisting the fighter away and applying full power to boosters.

Fifteen minutes later they roared low over a small planetoid scanning the surface for a hiding place. 

I think there would be about right, he suggested pointing at a small fissure in the crust. Find me if you can, you bastards!

Is it big enough? she asked warily, craning her neck to get a better view.

We'll find out soon enough, he announced, pointing the nose of the fighter towards the crack.

An alarm sounded, screaming at them in warning.

Vessel on intercept course, they're in range, she screamed scanning the instruments. They're firing. Avoidance manoeuvre Delta Foxtrot.

Where are they? he demanded urgently, as the shuttle rocked from the impact again. He pushed the ship into a steeper dive and span it hard. The next Felongran laser bolt passed them by a narrow margin, sliding below the wing. 

Let me worry about how to avoid them, just tell me where they are, Ma'am. He demanded as he hauled the control column back to level the fighter as it plunged into the chasm.

Above at one seventy point three zero degrees, she claimed in chastisement.

Five o'clock high would do, Ma'am, he corrected her mildly, as he hauled on the column again to turn a corner in the gorge they now found themselves in.

There are three enemy vessels, she reported, gripping the console hard as the ship veered hard again. Two have entered the gorge behind us and closing.

He grunted an acknowledgement and opened the throttles wider as a laser bolt hit the rocks beside them, then just as quickly slammed the throttles shut again as a sheer rock face loomed in front. At the last moment another passage loomed to one side and he sent the small craft veering towards it, banking hard to avoid an overhang, before slamming the power on again. Behind them they heard and felt a terrific explosion.

One of our chasers has hit the wall! She claimed.

So will we soon. I need help. Can you map the gorge? He demanded, as he continuously juggled the throttles and control column. This is too fast! Again he thrust the throttles shut for another sharp corner, whilst weapons blast smashed into the walls around him.

The gorge ends in 400 metres! She screamed as soon as the scan lit the chasm infront.

He responded calmly.

Why does he always seem to become calmer the more serious the danger,' she found herself speculating. She gripped the console harder as she saw him open the throttles wider. Suddenly he seemed to haul back on the control column and opened the shuttles boosters to maximum, sending the vessel soaring up and over on its back then plunged back into the gorge again.

The pilot of the enemy vessel was slower to respond and it too smashed into the cliffs. The blast forced their craft tumbling, with the Colonel struggling hard at the controls to avoid the rocks that were flashing less than a yard from the ship.

Where is the third bastard? He demanded as he started to regain control.

I don't know, the Captain admitted. I had my eye's shut during that manoeuvre. You're going to kill us!

Never mind I've found him, he answered as the fighter entered a long straight in the gorge. He's dead ahead and coming for us. Weapons are hot. Tally Ho!

Fire One! he announced as he launched a missile from the fighters weapons load. Fire Two! A second streaked off.

Still he maintained his course heading directly at the enemy.

Impact four seconds, she screamed in alarm as they closed the gap. The missiles exploded harmlessly against the walls of the gorge.

The Colonel fired again using the fighters pulse cannon, Pull up you bastard, he muttered. Give me a nice big target!

The Captain closed her eye's again as the two ships came within fifty metres of each other.

Got you! She heard him call, and felt the pulse canon fire again, then an explosion.

You may open your eye's again, Ma'am, he announced a few moments later. He played chicken and lost. We are out of the gorge, but we do have some control damage. I'm going to land.

Nervously she looked up then around at the other two passengers. They looked back at her, their faces white with shock and terror. She suspected that hers was as well, she had never been anything like that chaotic flight through the narrow canyon and the whole fight had taken less than ten minutes, it felt as though it had put fifty years on her. 

I never want to fly with you again, she squeaked in relief, then swallowed hard as she felt bile well in her throat.

Would it help if I said I don't want to fly with me again? He asked mildly, as he brought the ship to a hover then gently to the ground. When you've finished with the sick bag, it's my turn.

They sat and allowed themselves to recover for a full hour before the Captain could trust herself to speak again. I thought you weren't a good pilot? She accused him.

I'm not, Ma'am! He protested. But you would be amazed what I can do when I'm panicking!

She laughed nervously at him. You fool me every time, she giggled, then became serious again. How much damage have we taken?

Nothing serious, I think, but the controls have become heavy. The power circuits may have overloaded, he suggested.

Can we repair them?

Beats me, Ma'am. Wrong department. Miss Nine probably could.

She laughed again. I was forgetting, we are missing half the incredible duo. I'll have a look myself in a moment. 

How are you two? She asked in concern, turning her attention to the two passengers again. They appeared to have regained some colour. Both had been violently ill, as both she and the Colonel had been, but had been silent all through. They nodded back weakly, showing they were recovering, if slowly.

the Colonel spoke quietly, he was reclined back in his seat and gazing upwards. What colour would a planet be if the atmosphere was yellow and the ground purple?

Bluish purple, probably. It would depend upon the density of the atmosphere and what it comprised of, why? She queried.

Would it look like the one above us?

She craned forward and stared upwards. It would be a million to one shot, she protested, though she had to admit the planet was as Provarich had described.

It is my experience that longer odds than that have a habit of occurring at alarming intervals, Ma'am, the Colonel opined. Should we have a closer look?

The Felongran will be looking for their missing fighters, she pointed out. But we may as well have a look while we're here. If it is the right place then I doubt if we'll be able to come back. How are the controls?

They seem to have improved, Ma'am, he confirmed. I'll wind the engines up again.

  
  


Thirty minutes later the Colonel swung the craft low over the planets surface. The plains were indeed a purple colour and the sky a pale yellow.

The air is breathable, the Captain advised from her seat. The yellow sky is actually the action of the suns on a thin vapour layer. How that got there and why it seems to stay there I don't know.

The Colonel trying to be helpful, pointed to a range of tall mountains approaching them, their heads hidden in clouds. Could it be because of those? He asked mildly, he brought the ship slowly into the deep valleys that ran between them and they peered out the windows.

I wouldn't have thought so, she stated.

Hydra's live here, Provarich suddenly spoke, her voice high pitched with nerves. Provarich feel her! 

The Colonel tried to concentrate on the link he had between Provarich and himself. Apart from her obvious nerves he could feel nothing.

Do you know where she lives? He asked gently, using the link so as not to have to speak his bad Pidgin. We need to see her.

Stories say there is a wide valley in the centre of the mountains. I've never been there, she confessed replying using the same means.

Miss Provarich thinks Hydra is in the centre of these hills, Ma'am. I'll keep going, he announced. But slowly, he added for the relief of the Captain who was eyeing the walls closing around them again nervously.

He estimated they had travelled nearly fifty miles from their entry point before the mountains opened into a huge plateau. Around it he could see more mountains crowding it but the plateau seemed as flat as a billiard table. They pressed on further, in the distance he could see a small hummock jutting from the otherwise featureless plain, it appeared to project, impossibly, from the exact centre of the plateau. He felt something press down upon him briefly and the engines failed.

We passed through some form of energy field, the Captain called. Try turning us around so we cross it again!

I'll try, Ma'am, he agreed. But I'll have to find some speed first!

He pushed the craft into a shallow dive then banked it around in a wide flat turn before diving back the way they had come. Again he felt the pressure and the engines thankfully roared into life again.

I don't think we can go any further, Ma'am. It's getting dark. Permission to land? He queried.

Carry on, she agreed quietly.

  
  


Do any of your people live on this plateau? The Captain interrogated Provarich after they landed.

She shook her head furiously. Scared. Many guards! She claimed.

Captain Janeway looked back at the Colonel. This is your sort of territory, what do you suggest? She demanded.

We stay put, eat well, mount a guard and see what happens, he suggested mildly. If that hill over there is Hydra's layer, it's a good days march and there is absolutely no cover. 

The question is are the guards inside or outside the fence and what are they if they can scare Miss Provarich's people? He confided. I wouldn't like to meet them in a dark alley either!

With your permission, Ma'am, I'll go and have a short shufty around and see if I can get some clue to both questions? He asked moving purposefully for the door. Marine Sant, cover me from the doorway.

He stepped out and immediately started to study the ground as he moved slowly away from the ship. They saw him turn and move forward quickly, then stoop poking at something on the ground, then get up and run quickly, following something on the ground. He stopped suddenly and poked at something else, then ran back towards them.

Get in, he called hurriedly as he approached. Miss Provarich's guards are large, heavy and toast things to a crisp!

The Captain demanded as he closed the door firmly behind him.

There is a burn mark in the ground where I stopped first, he panted. It was the start of a trail nearly 100 yards long and 5 wide. It led to a body. I think it may have been one of Miss Provarich's, but it was too badly scorched to be sure, and there is a distinct smell of napalm and petrol. The grass next to it was badly flattened, and there were several deep foot prints. They looked like lizards, but too big to be anything I can relate to, and I don't think they walk, so let's call them dragons for the time being! He finished the description of what he had seen and collapsed into a seat.

Anything else? She asked impressed.

Not that I can think of that would be helpful for the time being, except there is something not quite natural on this planet, the Colonel added.

They settled down as the darkness grew outside, each to there own thoughts. After a little while the Paul Sant asked, What do you know about the Hydra in Greek mythology?

Not a lot, Marine, the Colonel admitted. I tried to look it up in the ships archives, but I think we've given up on Mythology. The only thing that the films I saw seemed to agree upon is that she had bad breath and a multitude of heads, that would multiply if you cut them off. One suggested her hair was made up of snakes. Another suggested that men turned to stone if they looked upon her. None suggested she would be helpful. Not the best description to go into battle with, he admitted with a grin.

How do you think we can rescue Miss Seven of Nine's mind then? Paul Sant asked in incredulity.

Because I'm an optimist and as we are dealing with stories of hero's, there must always a happy ending, the Colonel suggested gravely.

What hero's do you look to Colonel? The Captain asked moving the subject away from the unknown.

I don't as such, Ma'am, he admitted. If I have hero's they'd be people you wouldn't expect, miners, mothers, nurses, ordinary people who do and care for humdrum things I wouldn't or couldn't do because I haven't the patience.

There are some on the ship that believe you are a hero, the Captain suggested coyly. 

I'm no hero, Ma'am. I'm simply a soldier doing my duty, until I meet somebody who's better at it than me, he protested sadly.

But Heroes are famed for doing the impossible and you do that! The Captain protested.

Until somebody else comes along and does it better, or simply assassinates their character, the Colonel responded curtly. I came to the conclusion many years ago that hero's tend to suffer for their fame.

Is that why you dislike being commended in the logs? She asked quietly as a light coming upon her. You worry about the future and what they may say about you?

I doubt I'll be there to be hurt by what they say, he opined. But there may be others that are hurt. I couldn't live with that! Anonymity is much safer for everybody, nothing to try and live upto or down from.

I don't know if I'll ever understand you properly. I have a box full of cuttings and letters referring to your heroic antics, she claimed. You always seem to be sacrificing everything for what you believe right, but refuse anything in return!

Not true, Ma'am, he sighed. I am rewarded. It's the shy smile from a child reunited with its mother, or a farmer that is able to return to his fields, not the useless bits of paper. Destroy them please Ma'am, they aren't lies as such, but they tend to ignore the truth!

The Captain sank into silence, desperately trying to find an argument against the Colonel's dogged refusal to be considered as anything other than a simple soldier. She gave up the unequal struggle and simply asked, Could you sing for us? Something happy mind.

He replied happily, pulling out the inevitable flute.

  
  


Despite, or perhaps because of, their caution the night passed quietly. Nothing moved on the plateau's plain or came near enough for the ships sensors to detect.

Well at least we had a reasonable nights sleep! The Captain yawned looking out at the plains that stretched before them and stretching.

Aye, Ma'am, the Colonel agreed. And perhaps we will see the enemy approaching? 

He joined her at the door. A good thirty miles to the Hydra's layer, no cover and no clouds, perhaps ten hours march, are you upto it Ma'am? He asked quietly.

She shuddered at the thought of the long walk, but managed to put confidence into her reply. Of course. It looks easy enough.

I'll ask again in a couple of hours shall I, he grinned back at the Captains false confidence. It doesn't sound far in a Star Ship, but it's a long way down here!

Don't you dare, she threatened. You know I've never walked that far in my life!

You'll cope, Ma'am, he assured her gently. Look for some close feature to measure your progress against and walk towards it. Ignore the goal until it's no more than a mile away.

Marine Sant and I will divide the supplies we need between ourselves. If you could look after Miss Provarich? He asked gently.

She nodded an agreement, grateful that there would be no luggage for her to carry.

They set off thirty minutes later with Paul Sant in the lead, followed by Captain Janeway and Provarich with the Colonel forming a rear guard. The Captain noticed his uneasiness as he constantly scanned the sky and their surrounds.

They crossed the energy barrier without interruption, though Provarich was nervous and needed the Colonel's hurried encouragement to get her through and continued on into the plain. Presently their pace slowed as the strain of the march started to take their toll, first on Provarich then on the Captain. 

The Colonel started to sing, the Captain recognised it as the British Grenadiers. He had sung it before and had described it as a marching song. She tried to match her stride to it's steady beat and found it helped her. She encouraged Provarich to do the same and their pace picked up again.

They stopped for lunch as the planets two small suns reached their zenith and made walking too difficult to contemplate due to the heat. They sat with their backs pointedly facing their target.

Want to go home yet, Ma'am? The Colonel inquired of the Captain, grinning broadly as she eased her boots off her feet and waved her feet in the air.

How far have we come? She demanded tiredly, ignoring his goading and impossibly happy attitude.

Just under halfway, he admitted, still smiling.

She collapsed backwards in exhaustion, shading her eye's with her hand.

There's something up there! She announced, suddenly alarmed.

Where? How many? He demanded.

She replied. Between us and the larger of the two suns.

Keep yourself and Miss Provarich absolutely still, no matter what happens until the shooting starts, then run. But keep low! He insisted, without bothering to look himself. Marine Sant, is that toy electric sword of yours still working?

Yes Sir! He responded checking his sabre.

Move out that way 400 yards, lay down and prepare to give covering fire, he ordered, pointing in a direction and unshipping his rifle from his pack.

What are you going to do? The Captain asked quickly.

Give it a big fat target, the Colonel replied simply before getting up and sprinting toward the centre of the plateau.

He heard the creature coming for him but didn't turn to look for it. It started as a low hum that quickly grew in intensity to a screaming howl. As it seemed to reach a crescendo he felt the heat of flames burning his back and dived to one side, rolling on the ground and bringing his rifle up to fire blindly at the creature that was now hurtling over him. It's huge jaws snapping shut less than ten feet above him. The bullets ricocheted from it and he swore as the magazine emptied. He searched for and snatched another from his webbing and slammed it automatically into the breach, ready for the next attack.

This time it banked and came for him more cautiously, giving him the time to aim before firing. Through the weapons sights he sought for and found the creatures eye, reasoning that would be the least protected. He held his fire, until it launched another streamer of fire at him, then fired. He got off five good shots before he had to leap away to avoid the torrent of flame. 

Again the creature soared away and banked back. Again he took position aiming for the creatures eye again. This time he kept firing until the flames were within feet of him, but his shots were having an effect. The creature veered away sharply with a screech, still sending out it's ribbon of fire. The flame caught his trousers as he leapt to safety and they started to burn. 

In agony he rolled over the ground beating out the flames, then ripped them off with his bayonet as sticky streamers of a tar substance burnt through them and stuck to his skin.

His mind reeling he looked again for the creature. It was coming down on him again and there was no time to dive for his rifle to keep up the deadly duel. He braced himself for the last dive as it soared in.

Suddenly a bolt of energy hit it's head as Paul Sant joined the fray. He had watched in alarm as the Colonel had run from their lunch site and dived aside at the last moment to avoid the fire. Then in shock as he watched him kneeling with his rifle, waiting for the creature to attack again. Finally horror over took him, as he seemed to dive through the torrent of flame as his final shots did damage to the huge creature. It spurred him into joining in the combat, using his sabre as a blaster and aiming at the creatures head. The hand weapon was nowhere near as accurate as the Colonel's rifle, but the head was at least six feet tall and twice as wide, there was no way he could miss that sort of target.

He suddenly realised that he was now the target. He tried to settle himself as the Colonel had done, waiting for it to come to him while trying to aim his personal weapon at the creatures head.

The Colonel screamed in alarm as he saw the flames issuing at the knight. He dived after his rifle and started to fire at the creature again.

Out the corner of his eye he saw Sant fire once with his weapon then dive desperately away as the creature soared past him. 

It turned and came back at them, but this time there seemed to be something wrong with it. There wasn't the constant deluge of fire, more like short spurts and it seemed to sway drunkenly as it flew.

It's hurting! The Colonel cried, sprinting to take position between the creature and the young knight to prepare for another attack.

Aim for it's mouth! He yelled. It's having problems lighting the gas!

Again he fired as the creature descended towards him, aiming as always for it's eye's. Over his head he glimpsed the bolts from Sants sabre arcing towards the creature. 

There was a devastating explosion as the creature head seemed to explode. Without waiting he leapt away and ran for all he was worth as it suddenly stalled in mid air and came crashing to the ground. The blast of the impact threw him bodily forward over ten yards and he felt his back begin to burn as fragments hit his battle jacket. He rolled hard trying to smoother the fire before it got hold, desperately releasing the buckles of his webbing and tunic buttons, finally slamming both to the ground and diving away as the webbing exploded under his burning jacket.

For several minutes he sat stunned and dazed, simply watching his uniform and the creature burning in the midday sun. Slowly he took the sight in and let it register on his mind. The creature had been huge, nearly 100 feet long, he mused, heavy armoured scales on it's sides, yet the wings seemed too small for it to work properly, it's skeleton also seemed too regular and cross braced. He couldn't work out why. A he decided numbly.

Then he started to look for Paul Sant. 

Marine Sant? He yelled. Where are you man?

He staggered to his feet and limped toward the crash site. He dimly remembered the knight diving away from the falling dragon, but not where he went.

He found him laying near the wreckage. He was laying on his back, a huge tusk from the creatures mouth pinned him down, passing through his stomach, blood oozing from his mouth. He knelt beside him and gripped his hand firmly.

We got him, Sir! the knight whispered.

You got him marine, the Colonel corrected him quietly. You got him. I'm really going to have to work out how that sabre of yours works. But why didn't you runaway properly?

Had to make sure, Sir, he responded, his face suddenly going stiff and white with pain. 

I understand you. Save your lady, Sir! He hissed, then fell silent.

I will Marine, the Colonel vowed grimly and silently over the knights body, then closed his eye's as he felt them start to burn and said a silent prayer of forgiveness.

  
  


Captain Janeway watched in sheer mind numbing terror as the dragon soared down at the fleeing target of the Colonel. His command to runaway when the shooting started totally vanished as she saw him roll and fire at the creature, reload and wait for it's next attack. It could only be a matter of time before the inevitable happened and he was caught, then running would be a pointless activity anyhow.

One small rational corner of her mind also noted that the creature was too big to fly with the wings that it seemed to have, not that it seemed to matter the way that the jaws spurted dripping flames.

When she saw him struggle with flames it was only the paralysis of fear that stopped her from leaping up and trying to go to his aid. It was with deep gratitude that she saw Paul Sant take up the cudgels and allow himself to become a target 

She witnessed the end of the fight as the two formed up together in combined and sustained fire, then buried her head as it exploded incandescently. When she looked again she saw the Colonel stagger drunkenly towards the fallen monster, then crouch down.

Come on! She hissed at the quivering form of Provarich. The threats dealt with.

Not waiting to see if Provarich followed she ran towards the Colonel.

Colonel, are you alright? She demanded as she approached his kneeling figure.

He looked at her numbly. This is what happens to he hissed bitterly. They end up dead because they are too dumb to know when to run!

Are you okay? She asked in growing concern.

Give me a moment, Ma'am. Then I'll dig him a grave, he answered regaining his wits again. I don't like losing men, but I'll get over it. Can you give me a hand pulling this steel tusk from him?

They stopped and stared at each other as things snapped into place.

I think you've got something to do while you're waiting, he claimed quietly.

I'd better treat your burns first, she decided quietly.

When we've finished, Ma'am.

No, now, she insisted gently, pulling a regenerator from her pocket medi kit.

He sighed and sat on the grass with good grace, so that she could get to the blisters that had formed on his legs and back from his burning clothes.

What are you intending to use for clothes now that you seem to have lost yours? She asked whilst running the instrument across his burns. Not that I'm complaining, she teased eyeing him up and down. It is an excellent body dressed in shorts.

My greatcoat is in the pack Ma'am. Your blushes are spared! He assured her, lightening his mood to suit hers.

Provarich approached nervously. Dragon dead? She asked timidly, reaching an arm towards the Colonel for comfort.

It's not a dragon, Miss, he responded quietly. But it is definitely dead.

Treatment completed the Captain wandered off to examine the remains of the dragon, whilst the Colonel turned his attention to digging a grave for the fallen knight. Of the two the Captain finished her examination first and she stood curious and respectfully silent as the Colonel finished his task and said a few prayers over the filled grave.

You still think I'm a trained killer, Ma'am? The Colonel questioned her suddenly.

Before she could reply he answered for her. Perhaps I am, but I'm not a good one. I don't like getting my people killed for the sake of the death of an enemy. Shall we go?

No, I don't! She claimed quietly. It's just you surviving and protecting others, she pondered aloud.

Mentally shaking herself back to reality, she asked, Can we still make the hill today?

It will be a little late by the time we get there and we'll have to get a move on, but yes I think so, he claimed checking the positions of the two suns. The day here is somewhat longer than on Earth, so there should be light until quite late.

They set off again, the Colonel still at the rear checking the horizons and the sky for any more threats, though he had no idea how he was going to counter it should it appear. 

He had checked Paul Sants sabre and found that it was almost totally discharged and would require several hours to regenerate before it could be used again. Of his own weapons, his rifle contained no more than 10 rounds and the rest of his ammunition was in his webbing that was laying with the remains of the dragon. That left him with his bayonet and the sword strapped to his pack, neither would be a great help against another air attack.

In an attempt to gather more information about the potential attacker he picked up his pace a little until he was marching beside the Captain. What are we facing, Ma'am? He asked quietly.

It was a machine, she explained. Governed by an artificial intelligence, not an advanced one, but effective. The skin was an aluminium magnesium alloy and the engine appears to have been steel. I suspect Hydra' may be a similar creation, but who is behind it?

We'll find out soon enough, he commented, rubbing the back of his head. 

He could feel it start to ache in a dull throbbing thud. Did I bang my head at any point, Ma'am? He asked quietly.

Not that I saw, but I shut my eye's, she admitted. 

The question was interrupted as Provarich dropped to the floor, holding her head and screaming in pain.

The Colonel was beside her in an instant, cradling her head in his arms. I think we are under our next attack, Ma'am, he called, then settled to try and comfort the anguished woman.

Drawing deep inside himself he reached out with the implant trying to shield her from the pressure he could feel building inside his mind. I can't keep this up for long, he hissed. Sedate her please!

Reaching for the medical pack again the Captain pulled out a hypo and injected it into Provarich's neck and she slumped into unconsciousness, still cradled by the Colonel. He gently laid her on the floor.

What do we do now? She demanded sinking to the floor beside him.

I think a little strategic rebalancing needs to be done, Ma'am, he suggested.

If we just take water and a ration pack we can reach the hill in a couple of hours.

What about Provarich, it's her we need to get there for, the Captain protested.

I'll carry her, he said bluntly. Miss Nine weighed barely nine stone, only slightly more than the pack I regularly carried on Earth, gravity is slightly less here.

But that was three years ago! She protested again. And she is not a back pack.

We'll have to see if there are any faults in my physical training programme then, won't we? He snapped, pulling out the items he wanted with him from the pack, then lifting the slumbering form of Provarich onto his shoulder.

Standing again he set off towards the hill at a smart trot. The Captain left with nothing else to do followed, quickly catching him as he dropped to a quick walk, then left behind again as he switched back to the trot.

What are you doing? She panted as she caught him for the second time.

Infantry step, Ma'am! He explained, starting to run again.

Twenty paces quick march, twenty at the double, he continued as she caught him up again.

Used to do upto eighty miles a day like this, he finished as she started to settle with his strange progress.

It hurts! She gasped raggedly as they slowed again.

The discomfort will pass, he assured her lengthening his stride again.

Grimly determined she ran after him again, but without the breath to spare it became a long silent journey from there on, as she concentrated on keeping up with the Colonel.

He stopped after three hours and she sank gratefully to the ground. Why have we stopped? She asked between ragged breaths.

Because we are there, Ma'am, he informed her impassively, blowing hard.

She was glad that his breathing was also laboured.

I'll go and see if I can find a way in, he announced. Without waiting for an answer he darted off into the growing sunset.

Idly the Captain examined the hill less than 800 metres in front, it looked about 300 metres tall, and impossible regular, without a crevice or boulder to be seen, unnatural, she summed it up, as was everything else on the planet. Looking back the way they had come, she thought she could just make out the little hummock that marked the fallen dragon, but couldn't be sure. It must be nearly twenty kilometres away, she realised, a distance that they had covered in just over three hours, something she considered unimaginable on foot except by athletes. 

I'm going to enter you in the Federation Games, she mused as he returned, If you can do that all day then you're a certain winner in the endurance races!

Not unless you give them all a hundred pound pack and set the course through a minefield, he assured her cheerfully. I have found our targets layer and Madam is not at home at present. So I think entering now might be a good idea, before we are found in the open.

Wearily she nodded her head and struggled to her feet again, accepting his supporting arm for help, they felt so leaden that she staggered and had to grasp his arm again for additional support.

Fifteen minutes later they crept into a vast cave that opened onto the far side of the plain from which they had approached. The Colonel led the Captain quietly around the walls to the back then settled her down behind a number of crates.

I'm as much in the dark as you are, Ma'am, he whispered before she could get the question in. So I think we should wait and see what develops. If we can keep Miss Provarich quiet?

She whispered back hoarsely, leaning back against the crates.

  
  


They slept fitfully as the evening wore on into night then as the inexorable dawn loomed they were startled into wakefulness again by a wheezing and rattling. Cautiously they peered around the crates to see a creature moving into the mouth of the cave. It had the body of a giant crab nearly 20 metres wide and balanced on five legs as thick as tree trunks. From the front of it's shell were the expected two huge pincers, each a full 5 metres long and waving dangerously. But where there should have been two eye stalks were eight long necks, perhaps 3 metres long, each ending in a wild looking female head and face, their hair seemed to be freely moving tentacles that looked as though they would reach the shell should they ever decide to be straight. From the back was a long tail that arched forward into a scorpion like sting.

With hair like that, no wonder they look cross, the Colonel joked quietly. But it's lost a leg somewhere.

They continued to watch as it turned itself around and settled facing the mouth of the cave again, then it seemed to switch itself off, the heads and tentacles all lowering themselves gratefully to the ground. For a brief moment they thought that the tail would also drop to the floor, smashing into the crates that hey were hiding behind, but it too settled gently down on the floor and looped to one side.

Odder and odder. This is getting much too complicated for me, Ma'am, the Colonel pronounced. If these things are mechanical what is Miss Provarich? Who took her? What was her consciousness wandering around in the Cosmos for? He demanded quietly.

We're going to find out, she promised.

There discussions were interrupted as a door in the wall behind them opened and two figures appeared. Without the time to change their hiding place they simply cowered lower and hoped to be missed in the shadows. The figures moved towards and passed them, talking to each other, in the low level banter that suggested repair men comparing their lot. 

That's the third time in fifteen days something has fallen of Hydra. It needs replacing properly, one moaned to the other.

With a little luck it will blow up like Smorg, the other commented. Security thought it was attacking an intruder, but couldn't find anything.

The first snorted, Probably one of the stupid Carragh's and it flew off again. They are becoming a nuisance, they should be replaced as well. We've only shipped two in fifteen annuals and one of those was faulty and had to be brought back.

The other seemed to agree and they walked out of ear shot. The Captain nodded to the Colonel and started to move towards the door that had been left open behind the two workmen. The Colonel followed, lifting Provarich as he did so and the three stepped into a well lit corridor.

Choosing a direction at random the Captain led them up the gently sloping corridor. They heard a sound ahead of them, something was coming down the corridor. Desperately the looked around and spied a small door to one side. She opened it carefully and peered inside, finding it empty she darted inside, quickly followed by the Colonel, still carrying Provarich. 

They found themselves in what appeared to be a reception room, with large and comfortable settees placed at random around small tables, a number of pictures were hung upon the walls. Curious the Colonel laid Provarich gently on a settee and moved to examine the pictures.

The one that caught his eye first was an image over three feet tall and wide showing a dragon it's long and flexible neck arched back gracefully between huge leathery wings and a long scaly tail lashing out. He was joined by the Captain who peered over his shoulder. 

Your dragon? she teased quietly. I could see you fighting something like that. Using nothing but your sword and lance, to rescue a fair damsel.

I'm not Saint George or King Arthur, Ma'am, he pointed out quietly

One of our older but most popular models! A voice from behind him announced. They spun around in alarm and faced a short corpulent man in a caftan.

I am sorry to have kept you waiting, but we did not detect your arrival. Technical glitches you understand. It does not happen with our products they are of the finest quality! He laughed. It sounded very false.

They stood amazed and uncertain at the new turn of events.

Now I see Sir and Madam want something spectacular. Sir in particular looks as though he enjoys a good hunt and an even better battle to bring his quarry down to impress the lady. May I suggest something slightly different to the Smorg 2 model. We are just about to release a new range of Sharacks, he babbled on, oblivious to their amazed looks, trying for a hard sell. 

They are fully guaranteed and are supplied in family packs of six, delivery is included in the price. They are a little more expensive than the Smorgs, but they are genetically engineered not mechanical. It means that if you have space on your planet you could create a breeding stock and hunt them for years to come. They have a level four intelligence and each one will act differently as they learn about your hunting tactics. So they will require all of Sir's obvious hunting abilities to slay.

Who are you? The Captain demanded, finding her voice at last and interrupting the salesman's smooth patter. Behind her she heard Provarich stir and the Colonel bend to tend to her, leaving her to face the little salesman.

I'm so sorry, my name is Zeus, he announced apologetically. But I am so excited by our products that I find it hard to tell lifeforms who I am at times. Now as I was saying, we guarantee our products and for a small additional charge we can arrange for regular maintenance visits to ensure you get the best from your purchase, he babbled on.

What exactly is a She inquired, feeling herself drawn to the sell, despite herself. This was a man who could teach Ferrengi how to hard sell,' she decided.

You've not seen one! He sounded surprised.

Well let me tell you, you are in for a treat! You have seen bears? He started.

She nodded in bemusement.

Imagine one 9 metres tall, claws and teeth over 500mm in length, and the strength to rip trees out the ground, he suggested.

Again she nodded.

Now take away the fur and add a horn on it's head a metre in length with a jagged edge that can rip a being in half and an appetite for flesh. Just right for sacrificial victims, he laughed again.

Sounds terrifying, she admitted candidly. But we aren't actually here to buy.

His face changed dramatically from one of cheerfulness to blank denial in an instant. Oh! I'm sorry but the service department is fifteen floors down. We don't usually have customers arrive in person for repairs to their creatures.

We've not come for a repair either, she announced mildly.

Why are you here? He demanded sharply, his confusion showing. Our sales contract clearly states we do not countenance refunds!

We aren't here for a refund either, she assured him. I just want our crewmans mind back!

He queried in bemusement.

Yes, back! She insisted firmly.

I'll just fetch the General Manager, Mercarus, he stuttered and ran from the room.

The Captain turned back to the Colonel and Provarich. How is she? She asked gently.

The pain has gone, Ma'am, the Colonel admitted. But she is very confused. Can't say she's the only one.

I am sorry to have kept you waiting for so long, a new voice interrupted them and they spun round to face it.

He was similar to the last, slightly fatter and without the tufts of hair that had festooned the salesman.

I am Mercarus, General Manager, he informed them deferentially. I believe you have a problem? I must remind you we don't offer refunds or exchanges.

I don't want either, the Captain announced quietly, a touch of menace entering her voice. 

You have taken the consciousness of one of my crew members and I want it put back where it belongs! She explained patiently.

That is impossible, we have never met your race before, he declared obstinately.

And I have never had to meet yours, the Captain agreed levelly. But you still have something that does not belong to you. Now go and find somebody who is going to help us and not provaricate. 

You have proof? He demanded, the obstinacy building. 

The Captain pointed towards Provarich. Meet Provarich of the Carragh. Until five days ago she was Seven of Nine Tertiary Adjunct of Unimatrix Zero-One of the Borg. I'm sure you have heard of them, they destroy civilisations, she said, dripping acid into her words.

The gentleman beside her is Lieutenant Colonel Alan Samuels, he is very attached to Seven of Nine and is very pissed off. He destroyed your flying dragon! She continued in warning. And I am getting that way too, now before I set him on you. Go And Find Somebody Who Will Sort Things Out Properly! She finished speaking slowly and loudly.

Hearing her words, the Colonel came up behind her and snarled at the unfortunate Mercarus. He also fled.

The Colonel looked at her in respect and something close to awe. 

You have to learn how to deal with Ferrengi traders in my job, she explained sweetly. Sometimes an implied threat works wonders!

A new figure approached them. He was taller than the others nearly seven feet by the Colonel's reckoning, broad in the shoulders and muscular. He seemed to be wearing a wreath on his head, partly obscuring a mop of golden hair. His clothing seemed to follow that of his employees, except it barely reached his knees and was tied around the waist by a golden tassel.

I am Juttorran, the proprietor of Olympus Creations, he started, but was interrupted by the Captain

I am Capatin Janeway of the Federation Exploration Ship Voyager. I don't want a refund, exchange or meaningless conversation, she said quickly, stopping any speel. 

I want Seven of Nine's mind back in it's body where it belongs and Provarich's in hers, wherever it is, she snapped.

I can assure you that is quite impossible, Juttorran started.

The Colonel lunged at him and hauled his face within inches of his. You had better make it possible. Before I put you out of business without a closing down sale! He hissed violently, his patience shattered. 

I know you think you had a faulty Carragh. I heard some of your workmen talking about it. You brought it's mind back and it got caught with Miss Nine's. Now start explaining and doing, he demanded, thrusting the alarmed Juttorran away.

He staggered back, obviously shaken. Violence will not solve your accident, he stammered.

It would make me feel a lot better, the Colonel observed, picking up his sword and drawing it meaningfully. He thrust it through the metal table he was standing next to, lifted it and shook it off again. Get my point? He suggested.

Juttorran stepped back again. He whispered.

We will have to go to the Recorder Rooms. We may pick the consciousness up from there, he claimed hurriedly, becoming very helpful. Follow me!

Dutifully they followed him out the room, the Colonel again carrying Provarich, her arms clinging around his neck. 

When one of our creatures comes to the end of it's life we withdraw it's consciousness for examination. It allows us to follow the trends and fashions of our clients, he explained as they trotted down the corridor.

We use a unique and very tight beam and it doesn't affect normal life forms. It must have intersected with your Borg's implants. It is an impossible coincidence, he gabbled as they entered a small room.

Now I'll check the records and identify the frequency, he suggested turning to the computer console in the room.

Are the Carragh's mechanoid or genetic? The Captain asked quietly as Juttoran settled to scanning the computers readout.

Oh genetic, we haven't bothered with mechanoids for aeons, he muttered distractedly.

So Provarich is a genuine intelligent life form? She suggested.

Not really. We created it! He claimed. The level of intelligence we allow them to develop is strictly controlled. The Carragh's are restricted to level 3.

And what level of intelligence do you accredit to me? The Colonel asked, his voice low and dangerous again, picking up upon the Captains discussions.

I think you would reach seven or eight, Juttorran admitted. You obviously suffer from barbaric tendencies.

I don't go around creating things for others to destroy for pleasure! The Colonel protested. I would call that barbaric.

What is wrong with developing things specifically for people to destroy, Juttorran remarked calmly, still studying the screen. You can't make them extinct like many of the naturally occurring species on your planet, that you hunted because they were there. I know your home planet, we used it for many cycles as a test lab. Your species proved to be invaluable for testing our creations to their ultimate. I am surprised you ever managed to actually get off it.

The Colonel fell silent.

Now I have found your missing crewman, he exclaimed. I must say she is extraordinarily intelligent, we must get her out before she does some corruption. 

Level 12 at least, he added pointedly at the Colonel.

Can you put her where she belongs? The Colonel asked, ignoring the jibe, storing it for later.

And what do you intend to do with Miss Provarich? He asked, allowing his voice to fall into a whisper.

Her natural life has ended. We will extract the data that we require and terminate it, Juttorran responded evenly.

As easily as that? The Colonel's voice soared in incredulation.

She was a device, created by us. We do not get attached to them. Follow me! Juttorran decreed trotting towards the door again.

The Captain gripped the Colonel's arm in caution. I'll try to find something else for her, she whispered, sensing the Colonel's fury boiling up.

We can't accept a fate of an intelligent life form as easily as that, Juttorran, she called after the proprietor.

He sighed, Such a foolish and sentimental race, he muttered. Very well, I will see if I can find somewhere useful for her.

They entered another room. Again it was surrounded by computer terminals, in addition in a corner there stood a booth not unlike Seven of Nine's regeneration alcove. 

Stand her in there, Juttorran demanded, indicating the booth. Then we can begin.

What are you going to do with Provarich? The Captain insisted. You said you would find something for her.

He thought for a moment. We have a new breed of Carragh's, much improved on the older models. I will have her inserted in one of those.

Then you will leave them to develop on their own! The Captain demanded.

They will have to be guided, Juttorran protested.

They will develop on their own, without interference, the Captain insisted stubbornly.

He thought for a moment then looked back at her. I will agree if we can take a brain scan of your Colonel? 

She demanded cautiously, a little off balance.

There are many aspects of his mind that may be of interest in developing new creatures, Juttorran admitted. I am in business. I need compensation for agreeing to terminate a product line.

Will it be dangerous? She asked.

No. But he will be a little sleepy and confused when he comes out, Juttorran admitted

The Captain looked at the Colonel. He nodded grimly. I don't think I can get anymore confused, so no objections, Ma'am, he admitted. Provided Miss Provarich has none.

He turned to the young woman he had been carrying for so many hours.

You understand what is being proposed? He asked, using the link again.

She nodded dumbly. 

I can't force you to give up what you have for something that doesn't exist yet and I can't accept his assertion you are nothing but a biological machine. Are you sure you want to accept? He tried again seeking something more positive.

Provarich Carragh. Provarich no belong, go be Carragh! She claimed aloud.

The Colonel kissed her firmly, holding the shocked woman in a close embrace. 

Forgive me, he apologised gently still holding her closely. I thank you for what you are doing. You are a remarkable person, but I don't think I could do that in your natural state.

Juttorran coughed with impatience and the Colonel helped Provarich into the alcove and guided a perspex cover over her head. The job done he stood back and watched as it was activated.

The operation took a little over two minutes and ended with a flash of light and a scream as Seven of Nine slumped from under the cover. The Colonel dived forward and caught her before she hit the ground.

He cried in frustration as she looked at him blankly.

He turned a savage and accusing face towards Juttorran. She will start to recover in a few minutes, he assured the Colonel impassively.

I'll wait before you try to microwave my head. If you don't mind! The Colonel insisted.

They sat and waited for a nervous thirty minutes, the Colonel crouched holding Seven of Nine quietly, until a look of understanding started to cross her eyes.

What is my situation? She demanded wearily.

We are on Olympus and being held in my arms, the Colonel whispered quietly. And I am about to be overcome with emotions. I think I am either going to kiss you or cry in happiness.

None of the stated intentions would be appropriate, she muttered quietly.

He kissed her, before she could object further, firmly and passionately. There will be more of those to come, he promised, whispering in her ear and helping her to her feet. The Captain stepped forward, afraid of interfering in the close and intimate moment she had witnessed, and dragged a medical tri-corder quickly up and down Seven of Nine's body.

Finally she grunted her acceptance. It appears to be Seven of Nine, she admitted gruffly. What was the last thing you remember?

Holding an infant on a space vessel, Seven of Nine responded. I believe I may have been responsible for it's birth, she added, her eye's opening in recognition.

Close enough! the Captain agreed with a slight smile. You've lost a little time, but with luck and your logs you'll catch up. 

We'll be on our way Juttorran, she announced.

Ma'am, I believe we have to pay the man, the Colonel pointed out quietly.

Pay, Captain? Seven of Nine queried mystified.

Yes, Seven. It was the price the Colonel agreed to for your release and the continued existence of the one that was trapped inside you, the Captain explained gently.

Aloud she said a little sadly, Carry on Colonel.

The Colonel dutifully took his station in the cubicle and stood patiently for Juttorran to prepare. Inside the perspex dome he heard a low pitched whine start, it grew and reverberated around his skull making him increasingly dizzy, until it stopped suddenly and he collapsed on the floor.

The Captain was beside him with her tri-corder in a moment, gently slapping his face trying to bring him around.

You said it wouldn't harm him! She cried,

He is not harmed, Juttorran announced. It may take him a little longer to recover than your other crewman, I had to drain then reinstall his consciousness.

You said you wanted to read it, not drain it! She blasted back.

That is all I did, he disputed calmly.

Well you got what you wanted, she hissed. You make sure you fulfil your side of the bargain.

I will supply transport to get you to your ship, and we will put Provarich where I promised, with the rest of her people, Juttorran announced distractedly, examining the results of the scan.

Three figures came through the door. The Captain had seen no indication of a call anywhere. These creatures will take you to your vessel safely, Juttorran claimed calmly. I wish you good bye. I doubt we will meet again. He turned on his heel and left them with three faceless androids.

Two of them picked the unconscious Colonel up and with the third in close attendance behind, led them through passages to a hover car waiting for them in the Hydra's layer. 

They dropped the Colonel unceremoniously inside, then waited for the Captain and Seven to step in before climbing in and the transport set off smoothly.

  
  


Juttorran, when he left the chamber holding the Star Fleet party, rapidly called up his assistants. 

We have a new product range, he enthused. It could be our greatest yet. There is tremendous material in the Colonel's mind. Bodyguards, warriors, as well as a fiendish hunting variant. We are made!

Are you sure, Zeus asked warily. He is very resistive.

He's not intelligent enough to know, Juttorran crowed. It is not something we can't programme out.

Now tell the Felongrans to intercept their ship. I want them back fresh mind, there is a lot more to them than I could gather in one sitting, he demanded enthusiastically.

  
  


The journey that had taken the Captain and her party all day to complete the day before took less than twenty minutes in the hover car and was completed in silence. They were dumped unceremoniously by the ships door and left as the shadows of an encroaching evening came on.

Captain Janeway immediately leapt into action. Seven, try and get the Colonel on his feet. I'm going to get the engines warmed up, she ordered briskly. Juttorran was all together too interested in the results of the Colonel's scans. I don't think he has finished with us yet!

In the end they both dragged the Colonel into the ship. As Seven closed the doors, the Captain took the pilots seat and applied power for a take off.

The small ship surged into the air with the Captain applying increasing amounts of power heedless of Seven of Nines cry of alarm as she slipped to the deck from the high gravity acceleration. Breaking the atmosphere of the planet she looked around sheepishly, to find Seven of Nine sprawled over the recumbent figure of the Colonel.

Seven of Nine looked back accusingly. Your take off was excessively violent, it could have been damaging and was worse than those employed by the Colonel! She accused coldly.

Yes well. We aren't out the woods yet. Raise the ship, tell them we may need help, then take the tactical console and keep an eye open for Felongrans. There are bound to be some about. She demanded rapidly. I'm not a pilot like Tom Paris, or a survivor like the Colonel, so I'd rather not run into anything!

I shall comply, Seven agreed neutrally, sitting at the second console.

Fifteen vessels on an intercept course, interception estimated 80 minutes at current velocity, Seven reported shortly. Voyager is responding, arrival estimated approximately 100 minutes. I do not believe we could survive twenty minutes combat.

A groan from behind them indicated the Colonel was finally recovering. They looked around to see him trying to sit up.

I've got to stop drinking! He mumbled, rubbing his head. Somebody keeps hitting my head with a sledge hammer, I think it's me, he mumbled on in a daze.

Seven see if you can get him to recover quicker, we might need his panicking genius to get us out of here, Captain Janeway suggested quietly. I'm going to try changing course a little, perhaps we can increase the time before engagement a little.

Seven slipped from her seat and knelt over the Colonel, fumbling for a stimulator in the medi-kit.

I'm in heaven at last! The Colonel blurted drunkenly. There is a beautiful woman on top! Reaching up with an arm and pulled her down on top of him, kissing her lips lavashiousely.

Seven of Nine squeaked in surprise as she was tugged down, then succumbed to his insistent kisses, with one of her own whilst still scrabbling for the elusive item in the kit. She found it, then almost dropped it as the Colonel rolled them over. Pushing hard she levered him up and slapped the stimulator to his neck. He went rigid with the sudden shock to his system as the powerful drug started to take a hold, then gently toppled off her again.

The Captain turned in her seat in time to see the Colonel roll onto and off of Seven of Nine. When you have quite finished rolling around with him, I want him, she stated calmly, then burst into giggles as the humour of the situation and her double-entendre hit her.

Seven of Nine flushed as she rose from the floor, the hidden suggestion not entirely lost upon her, though she managed to ignore it. He will recover shortly, she panted. 

I'm sorry, the Captain apologised shrewdly. I didn't mean to laugh, but the sight of him nearly naked and you rolling on the floor with him, she giggled again. He is gorgeous, she added craftily.

Seven of Nine looked back at him critically, as if looking for the first time. He is acceptable, but not perfect, she agreed. There are several scars on his chest and his nose is slightly off centre and.

A perfect gentleman inside? The Captain interrupted the Borgs list of minor defects.

Seven admitted unperturbed.

And your perfect mate, the Captain insisted.

I have not fully considered the implications of that status, Seven declared with a blush.

Then you are probably the only person on the ship who hasn't, the Captain informed her impassively, trying to keep a straight face. There is nobody on the ship prepared to go to his extremes to look after you! She added.

I would disagree, Ma'am, the calm voice of the Colonel interrupted her, telling her he had recovered sufficiently to be taking an interest in things. There is nobody on Voyager who wouldn't go to extremes to rescue a crew member, especially the ships Captain. Because I am an unintelligent thug I can take a more physical view of things. It is more obvious than the more intellectual methods of others.

You are anything but unintelligent, the Captain disputed quietly. Even Tuvok agrees about that now.

How is the time differential between Voyager and our pursuers? She redirected her comments to Seven of Nine.

Fifteen minutes. They have detected Voyager and altered course to put themselves between us, Seven announced.

I'm open to suggestions? The Captain asked quietly.

Are the vessels that are chasing us able to take on Voyager? The Colonel asked quietly, struggling to take in the tactical situation.

Seven admitted, This vessels sensors are not as efficient as Voyagers. I will upgrade them when we return.

Are they showing signs of breaking up into individual attack groups? How many are there? He quizzed.

Fifteen and they are not breaking apart, Seven responded quickly.

I don't suppose Voyager carries such a thing as a multi warhead or cluster torpedo, Ma'am? The Colonel asked.

No. Why? She replied cautiously.

Pity. Assuming they attack in a single flock or keep formation, Voyager could fire a couple of those and with a little luck damage at least half of that fleet and charge through before they realise what is happening.

Another Twentieth Century idea, the Captain pondered. Seven get Chakotay on the comms.

Good evening Captain, Chakotay's calm voice sounded through the cabin.

There are fifteen Felongran fighters taking position between you and us. We can't fight a way through, how do you understand the situation? Captain Janeway asked immediately.

Tuvok believes they may be difficult, they are not heavily shielded but their weapons appear to be formidable, Chakotay admitted. We are at full combat readiness and have enhanced shields to suit their weapons. But idea's would be accepted?

The Colonel has asked if you can create a cluster torpedo? She asked.

They heard him call.

I require a definition, Tuvok announced.

Multiple small warheads, with contact and proximity fuses, dispersed over an area, the Colonel called in explanation. They don't have to be huge, the numbers would have the same effect.

There was silence for a moment, then Tuvok came back to them. I believe I could replace the standard torpedo warhead with a number of spatial charges. How would they be dispersed.

Small explosive charge? The Colonel suggested.

Then charge through the confusion, the Captain claimed.

Understood, Captain, Chakotay responded. We're working on it.

What now? The Captain queried.

I am going to find something better than a pair of khaki shorts, the Colonel announced, struggling to his feet and approaching the ships lockers. It is most unseemly to be dressed like this with nothing but two attractive women. I'm glad the radio was voice only, reputations would suffer terribly, he moaned.

The Captain laughed. I doubt I could get close enough, Colonel. Seven is your chaperone and she is probably safe now you've recovered.

Ah yes, I believe my behaviour was less than correct, the Colonel admitted crestfallen. Ladies, please forgive my disgraceful behaviour. I recall kissing somebody on the floor in a most disgraceful display. There was no excuse, Ma'am.

She laughed again. It was with Seven and I think she enjoyed it too much to press charges for it. If it had been me then it might have been different, she teased. I might not have used the stimulator!

he exclaimed in shock.

Don't worry, if Seven is around I won't come near you! She smiled again. She, like Seven before her, found that the Colonel was an easy person to embarrass over seemingly ordinary things and a certain level of sadistic pleasure in doing so.

The Colonel extracted a survival suit from the closet and self consciously started to put it on. 

If anybody thinks I'm going out for a spot of fresh air, they can think again, he muttered taking a seat in the back wearing the shiny silver suit.

I think I prefer him in shorts, the Captain confided to Seven, but loudly enough to be overheard.

  
  


Aboard Voyager Touvk returned from supervising the conversions to a set of torpedoes.

A salvo of torpedoes have been reconfigured, Commander he answered Chakotay's unasked question. I am uncertain of their effectiveness without simulation and testing. However a second is in preparation

The Colonel's suggestions are unconventional but often effective, he protested, excusing the action in the face of the quizzical stares he was getting from the Bridge crew.

Well I never thought I'd hear that from you, Tuvok! Claimed Tom Paris grinning cheekily. He had long ago accepted the Colonel's seemingly amazing ability to come up with clever and seemingly inspirational ideas at the drop of a hat.

I will programme the torpedoes to detonate and leave a gap through the centre for the ship to pass through, but I cannot guarantee we will not suffer some damage from the warheads, they must also be fired from a sub warp velocity, Tuvok continued blandly, ignoring Tom Paris's remarks.

Chakotay nodded. Ahead full impulse Tom, Full power to forward shields, he commanded. You'll become a Maqui yet, he commented lightly, not allowing the Security Chief off lightly.

He questioned.

Rapid modifications, spur of the moment decisions, admitting Star Fleet Regulations have errors. Certainly not a Star Fleet attitude, Chakotay pointed out cheerfully.

he agreed impassively. However the acceptance of rank, superiority and duty are not Maqui traits either. I find the Colonel's regulations are more adaptable to the situations we find ourselves in yet still require everything Star Fleet demands.

Chakotay smiled an agreement at him and settled in his chair. He muttered.

Voyager continued to hurtle towards it's enemy.

Chakotay demanded.

Ten thousand metres and closing, they are turning towards us, Kim responded quickly.

Eight Thousand, their formation is closing, he reported a second later.

Chakotay uttered a silent prayer to his gods, if they had split up it would have been a lot more difficult.

They are firing, Kims next report came.

Tuvok, fire! He called.

Voyager rocked as the first Felongran blasts hit them. Shields sixty percent, minor damage, Kim reported dutifully.

Four small bursts of light on the screen indicated that the newly modified torpedoes had detonated.

The cluster torpedoes have detonated, Touvok reported neutrally. Sensors suggest that the warheads are deploying as predicted.

Tom maximum warp, take us through, Chakotay ordered quickly as the first of the explosives started to explode as they found targets.

The ship leapt ahead, scattering the fighters at it's approach. Tuvok, phasors on any target, Chakotay demanded as they screamed through.

The ship rocked again as an explosion shook it, whether it was one of their own weapons or a Felongran they never knew, only that they survived coming out of the melee.

What did we achieve? Chakotay asked as they settled down again.

Three fighters appear to have been destroyed, five are disabled, four others are damaged. They are withdrawing, Tuvok reported calmly. The results were better than predicted.

Chalk it up to the Colonel's non-conventionality, Chakotay suggested. Tom find the Captain.

Aye, Sir.

  
  


An hour later the ex-Valorian fighter was tractored into Voyager's shuttle bay and the Captain and her party stepped out gratefully.

No problems? The Captain queried.

There are a large number of Felongran vessels approaching, but we are out running them, Chakotay announced. Tuvok is examining the new torpedo design, he thinks he can enhance the design somewhat.

So nothing pressing, she claimed. I'll explain what we went through at dinner tonight. You will come as well Colonel. In the mean time take Seven to see the Doctor, she will almost certainly need to regenerate and get dressed!

he responded quietly holding out an arm to Seven. 

She ignored it and wrapped hers around his waist and led him towards the door.

If those two don't marry soon I'm going to eat this uniform, and die of frustration, the Captain mused to Chakotay as they watched them walk out the door.

  
  


The Captain pulled out every stop she could over the dinner, sacrificing replicator rations and pulling rank to get an almost perfect meal prepared for the dinner that night, she even replicated genuine wine for the occasion.

Her guests appeared on time and she had them sat down at the table almost immediately. 

I had Neelix try to match the Colonel's prowess, she confessed as she brought out the first course. I've got to find something we can do better than you do, Colonel!

I've told you before, Ma'am. There are plenty of people who do things better than I can, he protested. Stick me in front of the ships engines and see how long we continue to fly. I'd give us a week before we blew up.

But I keep underestimating just how well you can do things! She exclaimed.

That is the first rule of warfare, he pointed out. Keep them guessing.

What others do you apply? Chakotay asked mildly.

Avoid civilians, don't steal, fight like a bastard, look for details and ignore the obvious, he chanted. It works most of the time.

What about the new weapons?

They aren't new, Sir, the Colonel protested. They are old ones that people have forgotten about. Just because they are old doesn't mean they aren't effective.

Why did you become a soldier? The Captain asked quietly. You can do all these other things so well there was never the need to become what you did and risk your life so willingly, when they obviously hurt so much?

I owe it to her Majesty, Ma'am, he explained sadly. She took a scared orphan and taught him everything he knows. How do you repay the one person who cared enough to teach you to spell your name correctly?

They stared at him in amazement. 

I'm sorry, the Captain apologised softly. I should have guessed, it's all in the records that I was given. But your life needn't be so bleak now, there are others that care for you.

A grin flitted across his face for a moment. I hope one in particular, Ma'am, he announced bravely. But it is difficult to change your life story simply because the walls are painted now!

How long before Seven is back with us? She asked, changing the subject.

The Doctor reckons a week. Miss Nine thinks three days, she really is coming under a bad influence, said the Colonel. I got her to compromise on five days.

And you are the bad influence, Alan, the Captain reminded him and smiled.

he agreed.

As they ate, the Captain explained the events they had been through over the last few days. I suspect that the blast Seven took from the crystal may have weakened her defences a little, that's why she was caught up in the transference beam, she finished.

Would you have stayed with Provarich, if we couldn't have rescued Seven? the Captain asked the Colonel seriously.

Yes, Ma'am. She needed protection, he responded quickly.

And it's not just because of her body? She accused maliciously.

he responded, his shock evident.

I assume that now the bold knight has slain the dragon and rescued his fair and distressed damsel, you are now a happy man? Chakotay asked.

Not entirely, Sir, the Colonel confessed.

I lost a man in something that proved to be almost pointless, that hurts, he pointed out. But the thing that hurts most is finding that the gods that the Romans and Greeks used, possibly even my own, were all actually from a mail order catalogue. I find it distressing and raising questions I don't want to know about.

Captain Janeway demanded.

He sighed. It says in the bible that God created Heaven, Earth and all the creatures that live upon it in seven days. That looks as though it might actually have been possible, he bought them all. Did he buy Adam and Eve? How can you trust somebody who browses the Freemans' Catalogue, sees something he thinks he likes and orders it to fill in the little gap he's found on an otherwise perfect world? He pleaded.

I don't see a problem, the Captain commented. You and us are all things he thought enough of to allow us to develop naturally. It's almost a comfort.

The discussion continued for another hour before both Chakotay and the Colonel rose and bid good night to the Captain.

What do you intend to do with Seven, now you've rescued her again? The Captain asked gently as he moved for the door.

I don't know, Ma'am. We can't carry on like we have been, the floor gets harder every night, he admitted ruefully.

She stood amazed. I thought you shared the bed! She stammered, then bit her tongue hard. Of course he wouldn't, she realised, it would be against the principles he was still trying to maintain.

Only when she demands it, Ma'am. Then I follow the orders of the commanding officer.

You mean mine? She challenged. I thought you loved her?

With every fibre in my body, Ma'am. But I won't take advantage unless invited, he responded. That is why I have followed your orders to the letter. Good night.

The door closed behind him leaving Chakotay and the Captain confused and together.

He is making fun of me, isn't he? She demanded at last.

Chakotay shook his head. He doesn't think so, he still has a blanket roll in the Shuttle Bay and it is used at regular intervals and you did tell him to do exactly as Seven demanded. He grinned suddenly, I think Seven is becoming quite a demanding commander though!

What have I started? She moaned, clapping a hand to her head in exasperation.

Nothing they can't stop if they wanted to, Chakotay assured her pecking her on the cheek. Good Night, Kathryn.

He left her to ponder the futures of Seven of Nine and the Colonel and the effect of orders given and carried out.

  
  


Revision 17

  
  



	8. Unions, Reunions and Promises (New 04/04...

Authors note: I'd just like to thank everybody that has read and commented on these stories, both in this and the last story cycle. Your comments are much appreciated. Thank you!

Ray

  


**Unions, Reunions and Promises**

  


_Tom and B'Elanna tie the knot, Captain Janeway gets impatient and Seven of Nine takes control. The promise of a friendly planet gives the crew of Voyager a welcome prospect of rest. Some old enemies are met and friendship blossoms..._

_Voyager and the characters aboard her (except the Colonel) in this story are copyright of Paramount. No resemblance is intended to any person alive or dead._

_The story line and the Colonel are my own._

_Constructive criticism and comments are welcome on e-mail [story@rgower.plus.com][1]_

_If like me you like to know why things occur like they do, I would heartily recommend you start at the first of the Colonel series. _

_This story is rated PG13_

_©R Gower 2000_

  
  


Permission to talk, Ma'am? The Colonel announced slamming to attention and saluting in Captain Janeway's quarters.

Granted. What have you done with Seven? She asked in surprise, laying down her napkin after a solitary evening meal and eyeing the crisply dressed Colonel. He was a physically handsome man, she decided, and it was enhanced by the regimental non-dress uniform that he still wore. Briefly she felt a little pang of jealously for Seven of Nine and the man she had seemingly captured the heart of so easily.

She is not due from regeneration for another three days, Ma'am. The Doctor found a fault developing in one of Miss Nine's implants, he thinks he has fixed it but has ordered her to extend regeneration by at least 48 hours, he informed her crisply.

So what do you want to talk about? She asked mildly.

Miss Nine and myself, Ma'am, he responded neutrally.

She queried in surprise. Don't tell me there is actually somebody on this ship you don't know inside and out, because I won't believe it! Especially when you spend so much time together! She accused lightly.

I fear I am far too close to Miss Nine to see everything, Ma'am. That is why I have come to you for advice, he admitted colouring in embarrassment.

Go on! She prompted. But I warn you I know nothing about people compared to you, she admitted, grinning wolfishly at him.

The Colonel didn't see it, he appeared to be studying his hands intently. A display of nerves, she reasoned, unseeming in a man she had seen charging fearlessly into battle against impossible odds, but then the strangest things seemed to affect him, she remembered.

Feeling her steady gaze upon him, he looked up. I'm sorry, Ma'am, he apologised. I'm trying to work out what to say without it seeming to say things I don't mean.

She looked at him puzzled. One of the things she found most refreshing about the Colonel was the way he spoke plainly, without trying to confuse the issues with irrelevant conversation. For him to actually try and pick and choose his words because he was uncertain was unusual.

Perhaps you should start at the beginning? She suggested helpfully. That is what Seven claims you always suggest is the best place.

A small smile flitted across his face. Perhaps you're right. I shall try, Ma'am, but I don't know if there is a beginning as such.

Perhaps I should start by repeating what I said to Miss Nine when we started this wild fling? He suggested. I love her with all my heart and I will continue to do so no matter what she decides in the future. I will endeavour to be by her side whenever she needs a shoulder to lean on, no matter what the cost to myself. You must believe that! He insisted.

Okay, I've got that, she agreed cautiously.

But our current relationship cannot continue as it is. I am making mistakes and I have taken advantage of her, it is a sin I find unpardonable.

You wish to terminate your relationship? She demanded sharply.

He snapped desperately. 

But there are no more excuses for me to share Miss Nine's quarters. We haven't needed a confessional in months. She has learnt everything I can teach about humans, formed all the opinions and beliefs that she needs to develop it further, she proved that on you when we found those damned crystals. It is time I stopped fooling myself there is more I can help her with. There is only one action left and that is for us to marry. But I am too scared to ask, he explained wretchedly.

You believe Seven would object? She asked curiously.

I'm afraid Miss Nine wouldn't and for the wrong reasons, he corrected her desperately. I will never match her abilities or perfection no matter how hard I try. I don't want her to think she owes me anything because she doesn't, or think of me as a charity case, or that she is duty bound just because of what we have faced and done together.

I do not understand! She protested incredulously. You think she doesn't love you? You're more than wrong if you think that!

He took a deep breath to steady himself. I think she may do, but it may be for the wrong reasons, he started unhappily. Since I joined this ship I have endeavoured to take care of Miss Nine. At first because it was the condition that you made for me to be allowed to stay aboard your ship, then because of other factors. Either way I have protected her and the environment she lives in and offered her help and guidance with all the abilities and facilities I can muster and I will continue to do so. But I am afraid that she may have come to love that protection not the man that is dedicated to providing it. That love can't last. One day all this chasing around will end, either because I haven't survived or we return to Earth. In the case of the latter she will find all my unsavoury side, or find somebody better suited, but by then she will be trapped with me, and I can be very jealous. I couldn't live with the pain she would face. 

There is also still the distinct possibility I will fail to protect her as I failed with Anneka. I don't know how to proceed? He added wretchedly.

The Captain pondered the statements for a few moments before making her comments. It seemed incredible, to her, that the man who had shown such a deep understanding of everybody else on the ship should miss the target with Seven's feelings for him by such a wide margin.

What do you want her to do to prove it? She demanded finally. Impale herself on your sword?

Before he could answer she continued urgently. General Fletcher told me you were the original and ultimate swashbuckling romantic pirate, dedicated to protection and comfort of everybody and anybody and terrified of people getting close to you, and have been since before he met you, she said quietly. Everything you have done aboard this ship has proved that. That is you inside and out and it is not just the Duty' you declare it is because you wear that uniform, we all know that, especially Seven of Nine! 

Yes! I know there are those hidden memories that you keep locked away and they terrified Tuvok as much as they terrify you, but remember Seven has seen them as well. They drive you to be what you want to be and what you are.

Seven knows you struggle with all the science we use and accepts that just as we do, because you know other things that she will never understand. We almost forgot that people are more important than simply getting the mechanics of a space ship to work. The galaxy will still be here without star ships, star ships won't without people, she has learnt that from you. 

You are the most honourable, kindest and wisest human I have ever met, I wish I was more like you because it would make me a better Captain, she admitted gently. Seven has tried to emulate some of your characteristics with some success, but she knows she will never be good enough to be without the benefit of your help and guidance. 

The truth of the matter is that you feel ashamed in wanting to be so close to her, sharing her life and quarters, because you don't think you're good enough for her. But you are terrified that she might actually refuse you and think it will force you to part? She accused.

Well I've got news for you! She answered her own accusation forcefully. You are good enough for her and she won't refuse. She has tried almost everything to make you accept her as a mate, but you are so comfortable in your inferiority complex you haven't noticed!

He started to speak, but she waved him down with a curt, I haven't finished yet!

As for failing to protect Seven, together you've beaten off almost everything the Delta Quadrant can throw at you, that won't change just because you have married. I read the reports in the file about your wife's death, even for a man capable of superhuman efforts you could not have saved her life! You were four hundred miles away when she died, you wouldn't have got there in time with a Star Ship! Now go, be as brave as you are in adversity, and do what you really want to do and propose! She finished with the demand.

The Colonel had returned to studying his hands uncomfortably. I suspect I deserved that, thank you, Ma'am, he stated quietly. But I do tend to get those I'm close to hurt.

You two couldn't be closer if you were Siamese twins! Captain Janeway stormed at him.

Forgive me, Ma'am. Siamese twins don't have the best of lives, he pointed out wretchedly. One works the other doesn't.

The Captain glared at him steadily for a long moment before replying. You're not putting her too high in your estimation are you? The Captain sighed. I know you think she is perfect, but she really is a long way from being perfect, despite how her beauty and intelligence make her look.

When used to being at the bottom of a coal mine a molehill looks as though it's at the top of the world, Ma'am, he replied cryptically.

But you are a long way from the bottom of a coal mine, Alan, She responded mildly, immediately interpreting the cryptic meaning. So you shouldn't make a mountain from it. Now go before I use General Fletcher's solution and get security up to force you together. I understand why he did it now!

I think I'd find it easier to charge single handed into a Division of infantry than do as you are suggesting, Ma'am! He admitted sadly. But I will try. Thank you, Ma'am! He slammed her a salute again and disappeared.

She sat quietly at her desk and carefully went over everything that had been said, looking for any hidden or unment comments. Finding none she prepared for bed, wondering when the Colonel would finally accept his own feelings for what they were.

  
  


On his way back to his quarters the Colonel spied Ensign Samantha Wildman in a side corridor, struggling to gain access to a conduit hatch located close to the ceiling.

May I be of assistance, Ensign? He asked, changing direction.

She smiled at his offer. Seven made a note that this power conduit was under strain and would need to be inspected regularly, she explained. But she is isn't due out for a while so I got the short straw. The problem is that Seven is taller than me and can reach it!

Allow me, he offered and popped the hatch. 

I wouldn't know a good one from a bad one so excuse me for the familiarity! Gently he placed his hands around her knees and shoulder behind her bottom and lifted.

She squealed in delight as she found herself lifted clear off the ground onto his shoulder and face to face with the dubious power conduit. Quickly she gained her balance scanned the conduit with her tri-corder and slammed the access port shut again.

It'll be fine for a few more days, she announced. 

You can put me down again, if you like? She added hopefully

Quickly he complied, letting her slip gently off his shoulder and allowed her to slip gently to the floor, his arms around her waist.

Don't worry about catching Seven. Marry me! She demanded laughingly, turning in his arms sliding her own around him and placing a peck on his cheek, watching him colour in embarrassment. Nobody has done that since I was eight, it was wonderful! Can I invite you for a cup of tea in my quarters, perhaps you can tell Naomi a bed time story, she really loves your stories!

I'll remember your first offer, in case the Captain is wrong, he replied lightly. But I would be delighted to accept a mug of tea. I've not sat and talked with Naomi for a while, what mood is she in and I'll think of a story to match it? He offered with a grin.

Bored. I've been neglecting her for the last few weeks, she admitted coyly. Perhaps bringing you home will make up for it?

We've all been neglecting each other for the last few weeks, the Colonel commented mildly. But I'll try my best.

She led them away towards her quarters, chatting happily.

  
  


Seven of Nine awoke from her Borg stasis at the prearranged hour seven days after she had entered it. Nervously she looked around the Cargo Bay, seeking the tall figure that was always waiting for her at times like these. She relaxed as she saw it standing guard beside the alcove, as still as she was under the machines effects. The dark uniform making it an indistinct shape in the holds shadows, but easily recognisable if you knew it would be there. 

The tall figure moved forward, slammed to attention in front of her and saluted. Lieutenant Colonel Alan Samuels, at your service, Ma'am!

She eyed the figure up and down appreciatively, taking in the crisp dark green uniform and the strong man inside it. Her efficient servant, protector, confidant and sometimes guide to real humanity and care, she wished he would be more.

Report status, she demanded calmly, hiding her feelings and stepping down from the alcove.

Wish to report, the ship is currently underway at warp speed, the Captain has decreed we will maintain a safety zone of at least one light year between the ship and Felongran Empire. There has been no contact with friend or enemy, Ma'am Colonel Samuels announced crisply. Lieutenants Torres and Paris have announced when the big day will be and Lieutenant Torres has requested that you are bridesmaid. Also regret to report I am still in love with Miss Seven of Nine, despite the injuries sustained and other distractions and hope that she is still with us!

You were damaged? She inquired, vaguely she recalled seeing blood.

Nothing serious, he admitted cheerfully. A lump out of my throat, lacerations to the stomach and chest, nothing life threatening. Permission to kiss the aforementioned lady?

She claimed stoically and braced herself for the welcome sweeping up in arms that would follow.

She was not disappointed as his arms wrapped around her and drew her close, their lips meeting in a long and tender kiss.

Miss Provarich may have had your gorgeous body, but was most definitely not the woman I am in love with! He whispered in her ear as they broke apart.

Yet you protected and got as close to her as you do with me! She pointed out, allowing a touch of jealousy to enter her voice.

Of course! He responded innocently. She needed protection and she was borrowing your body what else was there to do?

I will consider the matter. You may escort me to Astrometrics, She announced.

he agreed with a smile. I would like the chance to see what I'm kissing! 

He gallantly offered her his arm, which she gripped firmly and together they left the Cargo Bay.

They entered Astrometrics to find Ensign Kim at the consoles.

Ensign Kim. State your intentions? Seven demanded coldly. Astrometrics was her domain and she found it difficult to accept others using the room and equipment.

Marine Gwyndal gave us the details of a friendly race and a planet called Sharawonga, the Captain believes that we need to meet somebody friendly for once for everybody's benefit Kim explained. I was just plotting the course, almost finished. Are you going to act as B'Elanna's Bridesmaid? He added conversationally.

I am uncertain, I do not know what the functions of a Bridesmaid' are, Seven responded carefully.

All you need to do is make sure she gets to the service and doesn't try and runaway, Kim explained cheerfully. And considering it's B'Elanna, doesn't kill Tom before, during or after the reception.

Also the security and physical care of the dress, pinning it up where it doesn't fit or rips as it's put on, mop up the tears caused by nerves from the bride the morning of the service, whilst dealing with her hair and make up, which will be a mess after the hen party you also need to arrange. Ensure posies are delivered, ensure the bride is the required fifteen minutes late, guide the brides family to their seats in co-ordination with the Best Man. Prevent the page boy stepping on the train, or blowing his nose on it, stopping the youngest bridesmaid from being sick all over the bride because she's had too much chocolate milk shake and carbonated drinks. Generally prevent disasters. I was lucky I had Major Fletcher for mine, the Colonel added lightly.

There appears to be a lot of arranging, Seven stated uncertainly.

You will be a natural, the Colonel encouraged. When it comes to cool in a crisis I can't think of anybody better qualified.

He turned to Ensign Kim. Your responsibilities are even greater mind, Ensign, he pointed out. As Best Man, of course, if it goes wrong it is your fault. Now if you're finished button pushing? Bugger off, there's a good chap, he suggested mildly.

Taking the hint Kim made rapid excuses and left smartly.

Seven quickly studied the control panels, noting the planet that Kim had identified and recognising the indigenous species from her Borg ancestry. Species 3947, a life form that is almost unique in the quadrant, She claimed in disapproval. They have no aggressive tendencies but an advanced culture. If they still exist, there will be little chance of danger for the ship and crew on Sharawonga, except from the excess of entertainment.

Sounds like an Australian sheep farm, to be honest, the Colonel commented.

I believe you may find the parallel with simple quadropeds uncomfortable, she asserted. They are very docile and inactive.

After a while probably, the Colonel admitted taking her in his arms and kissing her gently. But we have been living on the edge for nearly a month, we do need time to relax, reflect and recharge ready for the next batch of disasters.

He claimed lightly, releasing her again. Before I return to put my remaining marines through seven flavours of hell, is there anything I may do for you?

I must recalibrate the sensor array, your assistance will not be required, she assured him calmly, noting the disappointed look pass across his face. What training are you proposing for your Marines?

Three days real soldiering digging holes, on Holodeck 1, catch you later? He announced cheerfully turning for the door, then suddenly stopped and patted a pocket. 

I knew there was something I meant to give you! He announced, pulling a long box out of one of his seemingly cavernous internal pockets and presenting it to her. 

Take a look later, when you've done, he suggested kissing her quickly on the cheek, then he turned smartly and was gone.

Intrigued she opened the box to reveal a light twin trace gold chain choker garnered with deep blue Sapphires and a small note, this she read, The little black number was getting a little dull. This might be a little better in the right situation? Love AS', it read.

Carefully she closed the box again and made a note to look at it again when she finished her calibrations so she could think of a suitable reposte.

  
  


She took it with her to the staff meeting thirty minutes later and laid it before her on the table, an act noticed by the Captain, as the others took their seats.

How long before we reach Captain Janeway demanded getting the meeting underway.

Seven days, Tom Paris announced. Whilst we've the chance B'Elanna wanted to do some work on the warp engines, so we're using impulse only!

The Captain queried.

Last time we went to maximum warp there were vibrations in the anti-matter manifolds, she reported dutifully. I want to balance them out before we needed full power again.

Nothing to do with your marriage in five days? She queried hawkishly. I don't know if I'll be granting any extended shore leave.

No Captain! B'Elanna protested in seeming shock at the suggestion. I just want them to be in perfect condition!

And nothing to do with D'Argonaic's promise it was a beautiful planet for a wedding and honeymoon? Chakotay added mischievously.

Both Lieutenants blushed noticeably.

The Captain pushed on saving further embarrassment. How are your preparations going, is there anything else you need? This is something that I want to be perfect!

Only Seven's agreement, B'Elanna announced with a grin. The Colonel has put St Christopher's at our disposal, as long as he can play the organ.

She queried.

I am unsure of the functions, but I will comply if given the parameters, Seven agreed carefully, she glanced at the box on the table. Was that the right situation to wear the glimmering necklace', she wondered.

Anything else? Captain Janeway kept up.

There have been some complaints about the Colonel monopolising on the holodeck usage, Neelix offered unhappily. I know he is using it for training the marines and has moved a fair amount to the Shuttle Bay's, but if he could find a way to reduce the training requirements?

His methods are as unconventional as always, the Vulcan security officer admitted. He is aware of the reliance on the Holodecks and is attempting to reduce it, drill and fitness training is now largely carried out in the Shuttle Bay, theory is carried out in the Mess, but both locations can inconvenience others in their duties. Tactical simulations have been carried out on a number of decks, with obvious consequences.

Are they working? She persisted.

The Vulcan was emphatic. They carried out tactical training on their quarters with the help of security personnel two days ago, under the pretext of a hostage situation. The simulation was completed in fifteen minutes from deployment to completion, two security guards were slightly injured, the hostages were not harmed in anyway. He wishes to carry out a similar manoeuvre in Engineering?

Not while I'm working on the warp drive! Exclaimed Torres' heatedly.

He will seek your permission before he attempts to do so, Tuvok assured her. They will also clean the section to his satisfaction before leaving.

Torres blanched at the implied standard. I wouldn't ask that of them! She claimed aghast. I haven't got the hang of what he did to the shuttle yet!

Did you ever find anything? Kim asked in fascination, thinking of the Captains instructions to have the shuttle inspected minutely for any remaining marks.

she admitted. There was a finger print on the inside of the engine cowling. But I didn't dare tell anybody, otherwise he would have done it all again.

I will advise him of his error, Seven put in mischievously.

Don't you dare, or you'll be helping him! The Captain threatened quickly. I don't think I could stand it again.

I'll talk to him and see if he can reduce the use of the Holodecks further, she promised. Anything else? She prompted again. Otherwise dismissed.

Now you can show me what's in the box you keep eyeing, she confided quietly to Seven as the others trooped out dutifully, leaving her, B'Elanna and Seven of Nine.

Shyly Seven pushed the box towards the Captain, who opened it and let out a low gasp.

He needn't have been a soldier, she claimed fervently, gently pulling the necklace from it's box to examine it closely. He could be a jeweller, chef, entertainer anything! Have you tried it on?

No, Captain! Seven responded neutrally. Jewellery seems a pointless frivolity.

Not when it is made by the man that loves you, B'Elanna claimed peering over the shoulder of the Captain to get a better look. It's what made me accept Tom's offer in the end. It is proof that he cares for and thinks of you!

He is trying hard, the Captain mused quietly. I wonder if he chickened out at the last moment?

Slowly she approached Seven of Nine and wrapped the chain around her slender neck shutting the clasp firmly then standing back to admire it.

Torres enthused. You will have to wear it for the wedding! She laughed.

It is time you two sorted yourselves out properly! The Captain suggested. That must have taken him weeks when he ought to be thinking of something else other than you!

I shall consider your opinion, Captain, answered the cool blonde standing up and moving to the door, though she did appear to be colouring slightly, the Captain decided.

Those two give me more sleepless nights than you and Tom, the Captain confided to her chief engineer. One of them must make a move soon!

  
  


The Colonel was taking the Captains advice seriously. He had tried to pluck up the courage to approach Seven of Nine when they had been given privacy in Astrometrics, but had stopped himself, feeling it would not be fair when she had just stepped out of her deep sleep. Or at least that is what he tried to convince himself, the truth, he knew, was that Seven of Nine was never more alert than when she stepped out of Borg Stasis and he had bottled it. The task was proving every bit as difficult as he had predicted.

Now he stood glaring at his two remaining Marines in a holographic simulation of rolling countryside. They were confident of their abilities now that he had given them some comparatively simple tactical exercises and he had shown them what he expected of them, now was the time to tighten the screw.

Over the last few weeks, you have found how easy it is to storm a poorly defended objective, he announced coldly. Even when you are outnumbered. But taking a target is only part of your role, you've got to hold it as well! Now you are going to find out how difficult it is to defend a target you've taken!

In approximately 48 hours the enemy will attack this spot, you will defend it until they withdraw or you lose. To enable you to do so you will dig a defensive pit fifteen feet long, seven wide and eight deep. Along the outer edge you will include a fire step at about five feet below the edge, use the soil you dig to form a barrier on the edge of the pit and create fire slots through it. Carry on gentlemen, you have plenty of time, provided you don't stop, he grinned savagely at them as they blanched at the level of work being put upon them.

Why must it be so deep, Sir? Begged Gwyndal.

Because if your head is above the parapet I'll bloody well knock it off! The Colonel assured him. Even I have to have a target to hit. As for the fire step, you'll find out what that is for if it rains, it could do that too, the deeper you dig before it starts the easier it will be! Carry on Marines.

He stepped back and watched them start work. Not unenthusiastically, he noted, but they would find out how hard it was going to be in due course. He stepped back from the two soldiers to allow himself the chance to think about his other problems subconsciously gripping the leather bag he kept around his neck.

  
  


Seven of Nine was also taking the Captains opinions seriously, matching them with her own feelings and uncertainties. She tried to resolve them whilst completing her solitary tasks in Astrometrics, but found she it as distracting as attempting to do so in noise and bustle of the Mess. It seemed to heighten her feelings. Finally she took them to Cargo Bay 2, her alcove and the computer terminal and confessed her thoughts to it.

Humans seem to place much faith in the ability of marriage' to solve the differences between two people of opposite genders, she stated. The union of Lieutenant's Paris and Torres will undoubtedly prove whether their assumption is correct, I am still of the opinion that a homicide is a more likely outcome than a satisfactory collective being formed. The Captain is of the opinion that the Colonel has neglected some of his duties, because of our current relationship, she also seems to believe that the same solution would prevent this.

Considering my own feelings, I find I still suffer many of my early symptoms when I have cause to consider him, it is frustrating that he still resists extending our interaction beyond holding and kissing, he believes I wish to be protected from such extended interaction. I believe that he is not entirely satisfied with the conduct of our relationship. I understand that it is customary for the male to propose a union, yet I do not believe the Colonel will do so because of his decision to protect me from himself. 

She thought for a moment before continuing. The options I face are limited. I find it undesirable to terminate the relationship we have established, however I do not wish to cause him unnecessary discomfort, I am also unsure whether he would accept the proposition of forming a collective.

Her mind wandered for a moment, her memory casting back to her visit to the Colonel's home on Twentieth Century Earth and her meeting with the local parson and his advice. The Cleric at the Colonel's church claimed that I could break the remains of his resistance should I wish to. I now believe that this may be the event that he was referring to.

Sighing softly she terminated her log entry and turned for her alcove, hoping that the Borg enhanced sleep would provide the solution.

It was with a new degree of determination that she emerged from the trance some twelve hours later and had her marching purposefully towards the Holodecks.

  
  


The door to Holodeck 2 opened and Ensign Samantha Wildman stepped furtively in. 

She was on duty, but seeing the deck unused and with a pressing need to test out a programme she had created for her daughter, Naomi, before they shared it together, she took the opportunity. 

She would make her apologies to B'Elanna Torres later, if she was caught, she decided and she did owe Naomi more time together. 

Not that would necessarily be difficult to avoid Lieutenant Torres' wrath, she convinced herself, the Klingon engineer had become a whole lot easier to live with since her formal engagement to Tom Paris. There were even rumours that she hadn't shouted at a crewman for being clumsy when he had dropped a console he was repairing.

All these thoughts and others occupied her mind such that she did not notice Seven of Nine until she almost walked into the blonde.

"Ensign Wildman,'' Seven observed calmly.

''I'm sorry Seven! But there was nothing running," Samantha Wildman started to apologise for interrupting, but was stopped in her tracks by Seven's next statement.

"Apologies are not relevant, your opinion and assistance is.'' 

"Oh! Sure! What on?" She asked in surprise.

I am attempting to decide how to make the Colonel become a permanent collective with myself, but I am unsure of how to proceed, Seven announced dispassionately.

The Ensign gazed at her in stunned amazement. Marriage! Are you sure? She demanded impulsively, then bit her tongue hard. 'Of course she was, otherwise she wouldn't ask' she reasoned.

The Captain believes it would be a suitable situation, Seven confided.

But what about you? Samantha Wildman demanded. I thought you were both happy as you were without it?

There are occasions where he proves to be resistive and uncomfortable in my presence, Seven announced dispassionately. I do not wish him to be, this seems a suitable arrangement. You do not think it suitable? She challenged with the inevitable raised eyebrow.

No, I mean Yes, Samantha spluttered. For the Colonel quite probably, but I never thought of you as a marrying type. Then there is the after effects, like Children!

I have noticed that they are considered important, Seven agreed. I have also noticed that they cause much pain and distress to the female before they are born and have been advised it is similar as they mature. Is that the case?

Yes I suppose it is, Samantha admitted thoughtfully. But they also give a lot of pleasure as well.

You would go through it again?

Yes I would, she agreed readily. Given the right man. Somebody like the Colonel, perhaps? Strong, kind and considerate, she mused quietly.

I shall consult with the Doctor over the condition, Seven announced, ignoring the Ensigns final statement.

It's not an ailment, Seven! Samantha Wildman chided happily. It's perfectly natural, the Colonel loves kids and I think you do to, I heard about the Elgron baby and how attached you got to it!

She needed care, Seven protested weakly.

I'll help if I can, Samantha promised with a knowing smile. What were you intending to do?

I thought I should help him relax, Seven announced. Computer activate She demanded calmly.

The Holodeck shimmered into the the replication of the nightclub she and the Colonel had visited before. He finds this venue romantic and relaxing, we have used it before, She commented.

So far so good, the Ensign agreed readily.

Computer add holo image of Colonel Samuels, Seven demanded. 

We usually engage in a dance before we leave. That is when I was proposing to ask, she announced, taking the hologram into an embrace.

I think you've got it well planned, the Ensign agreed, interrupting Seven before she got too involved. I can't fault anything there. How would you ask?

I wish to make you into my collective. You will comply! Announced Seven to the holographic Colonel.

She turned suddenly as Samantha Wildman collapsed to the floor in shrieks of laughter.

You are damaged? Should I call the Doctor? Seven demanded in concern.

No! Please give me a moment! Samantha gasped, clutching her sides in an effort to stop the laughter.

It was all going so well, the romantic mood, the situation, everything. Until you spoke! She laughed. There is such a thing as being too direct you know?

The Colonel prefers people speaking directly! Seven protested uncertainly.

I know he does, she assured her. But that was the verbal equivalent of hitting him on the head with a large club and dragging him off to your cave. Say it like that and he will be out the airlock before you can say Borg. He needs to feel he can refuse, even if he can't! She declared

What would you suggest? Seven asked cautiously.

Samantha Wildman climbed into a chair to consider the question. How often have you actually told him you love him?

Seven of Nine admitted. But he is aware of my feelings, we embrace each other, she added defensively.

Is he? Just who embraces who? Samantha Wildman asked thoughtfully. How often has he told you he loves you?

Most days, Seven admitted on the defensive.

You could simply try telling him you love him more often and before he tells you, then see what happens? Samantha suggested gently. If you really want to trap him in a hurry, then I suggest you wait until Tom and B'Elanna's wedding reception, then say you would like to marry him, if he will have you. With everybody there he won't be able to run so far!

I shall consider your recommendations, Seven agreed guardedly. Thank you!

If you decide to ask him, I will be routing for you, Samantha Wildman encouraged her. Of course, if he accepts, there will be a lot of jealous women on the ship, we were all hoping you would throw him out so that he was available on the rebound, she added with a laugh.

You would fail! Seven replied sharply.

Oh, we know that, we can't hold a candle to the hold you have on him, but it wouldn't stop us wishing and teasing him, and that includes the Captain, the Ensign laughed again. Now I'd better get on with my duties or B'Elanna will ball me out, wedding or not!

Still laughing she left the bemused Borg to think.

  
  


The Colonel's two marines stood in their freshly dug defensive trench scanning the horizon, or what they could see of it pensively, awaiting the attack that the Colonel had promised would occur at some point. The trench had taken nearly thirty hours of continuous digging to complete and it had started to rain hard, as the Colonel had predicted. 

The rain had shown the reason for the tall Fire Step' that the Colonel had also demanded, stepping off it meant sinking to over the ankles in mud. They were now cold, wet, tired and dispirited, taking it turns to try and snatch some rest, whilst the rain continued to trickle down their necks.

Somewhere in the gloom there was a splash and the stiffened expectantly, then relaxed a little and grinned sheepishly at each other, as they heard the Captains muffled oath.

Their faces dropped again as they were told off by the Colonel, who was sitting on the edge of the trench, seemingly oblivious to the cold and wet. Just because it sounds like somebody you know, doesn't mean you don't challenge them! He snapped.

Marine Gwyndal shrugged and bellowed dutifully into the gloom that surrounded them. Halt! Who goes there?

Captain Kathryn Janeway! The still muffled reply came back. Will somebody help? I've lost a boot in the mud!

The two marines looked at the Colonel quizzically as he stood up. Regulations demanded that they should demand that the voice approach them to be recognised formally, yet they suspected that the Captain would not appreciate having to squelch through the mud before getting the required assistance. He shook his head at them confirming their suspicions.

Two moments, Ma'am! He answered cheerfully, moving towards the sound of her voice.

He found her sitting in the mud looking bedraggled. 

I suppose you think this is funny? She demanded as he appeared.

No, Ma'am. I think this is war, he corrected her with a smile.

I admit though that I didn't think the computer would let it rain so hard and for so long, he admitted. I must have left something out in the programme?

She grunted in reply as the Colonel picked out her missing boot from the mud and handed it to her. She leant forward and slipped it back on, gasping involuntarily as the holographic mud squeezed between her toes, then turned back to the Colonel.

Help me up! She demanded. I suppose it is realistic, but is it necessary, they won't be with us for that long?

Yes, Ma'am! He answered in seeming shock. I can't do half a job and they aren't ready to storm a sunny beach yet, that gets very unpleasant!

He leaned forward, slid her arm around his neck and bodily lifted her clear of the all engulfing mud. Now Ma'am, should I help you off of the deck or do you wish to witness the finale? He asked lightly, as an explosion and the flash of phasor fire came from behind them.

The safeties are on? She demanded suspiciously, mindful of his dislike of the holodeck's automatic safety systems that prevented people getting seriously hurt.

It's their first attempt, so yes Ma'am, he admitted.

Then I'll come and watch, provided you carry me over this lot, I'm not looking for another boot whilst all this is going on, she agreed waspishly.

Carefully he carried the Captain over to where the two marines were hidden and dropped her as gently as he could into the trench. There is a fire step just in front Ma'am, he advised as he did so. If you care to step upon that, you'll be out of the worst of the mud and will be able to see through the loop holes. If you should wish to take part there are spare rifles and plenty of enemies.

What followed next, was in the Captain's estimation, the most terrifying forty minutes of her life as what appeared to be several hundred soldiers emerged from the gloom, all screaming and shooting at her personally, as deafening explosions ripped the air around her. Desperately she grabbed one of the rifles that the Colonel had pointed out to her and started firing blindly at them achieving little, until the Colonel stopped her and forced her to aim selectively and accurately. We want them to runaway, Ma'am, not give them a nice target, He chided, then turned to deal with an enemy soldier who had managed to crawl upto their position, by burying his own bayonet into him.

She turned in alarm as several more came over the parapet and watched as the two marines swapped from rifles to sabres to deal with them. Ignore them and keep shooting Ma'am, the Colonel hissed in her ear. They'll go soon! Do enough damage and they won't come back!

He was right, but it still seemed like an eternity to the Captain as she tried to ignore the screams around her and continued to fire at the shadowy figures that were approaching. Finally the aggressors withdrew and he called a cease fire and froze the horrific simulation.

Computer, compute scores! He demanded as they all leaned back and relaxed, even the mud seemed like luxury after the battle.

That was war? The Captain asked, still stunned by the savage way she had responded.

Not particularly accurate, Ma'am, the Colonel responded neutrally. There are no screams from the wounded! On the other had the enemy took more casualties than I would normally expect. It is one of the drawbacks of phasors against a rifle.

She queried in dreaded fascination.

A phasor either fries people or it puts them to sleep for a while and they wake up with nothing worse than a few burns and a headache, either way they don't scream in pain and don't need immediate medical attention, he prescribed calmly. With a rifle the probability is that you won't actually kill most of those you hit, the others are injured and need to be pulled back for medical attention. To be able to do that you need able bodied people, at first it's in ones and two's, then more get involved as they realise it isn't going to be a walkover. The magic figure is about 20% loss by which time over half of the enemy will have been used pulling the injured away and the attack collapses. Simple mathematics, even I understand numbers like that. 

He smiled grimly at her look of horror. Of course it doesn't always work out like that, sometimes the bastards just like to die! He admitted.

Computer the scores please? He demanded.

Opposing force casualties 103 disabled from 260. Defending force casualties 16, the computer responded blandly.

The Colonel tutted under his breath. Somebody didn't keep their head down, he accused. Only a five to one kill ratio. You are all dead! But you will do better next time, because it will hurt if you don't! 

I think we can call it a day, gentlemen. Unless you want to try the second attack? He offered the choice in wide eyed innocence, but was unsurprised by the respectful refusal.

He turned back to the Captain. You wish to tell me off for something, Ma'am? He queried.

She gazed at him blankly for a moment, until the reason for he visit came back to her. Not exactly, but I was going to ask you to try and cut back on Holodeck usage? She admitted. Is this is how you trained on Earth? How do you get people to fight odds like that?

Training and practise, Ma'am. The holodeck is an excellent training tool, it is a lot more realistic and safer than our ways, he responded neutrally. Considering it was their first attempt I suppose they didn't do too badly, he admitted thoughtfully. May I take you for a cup of tea, Ma'am? He added hopefully.

Your place or mine? She teased laughingly. We're in too much of a mess to be seen in the Mess!

It's all holographic, he pointed out. I assume it all disappears as we step off the deck?

It's real, she disillusioned him. Or at least as real as anything replicated. My place, come on.

Tell me you wouldn't prefer a life with Seven to that sort of battle? She demanded as she led the Colonel towards her quarters.

I have never made claim to what I would prefer, Ma'am! The Colonel responded. Only what I would find the easiest.

They entered the Captains quarters and she immediately pulled off her sodden uniform jacket and set about the replicator, handing the Colonel a steaming mug and a towel to wipe his face clean. He in his turn pulled a metal flask from inside his jacket and poured a measure of a thick dark brown fluid into both his and her mug.

What's that? She demanded in surprise.

Rum, Ma'am, he responded cheerfully. After two day's in mud in rain, it is the best anti-cold, flu and nerve tonic I know of, believe me I've tried them all! Cheers! He took a deep draught from the mug and the Captain taking his lead sipped hers, carefully. She coughed and spluttered as the unaccustomed fiery mixture caught her throat, then the burning sensation as it scoured it's way down. She hadn't actually realised she had felt cold on the Holodeck until then.

She swore hoarsely sinking onto a chair. That could put hairs on your chest. That isn't simple Rum is it?

Not quite, Ma'am, he admitted. It's Navy issue, high octane stuff, similar to the stuff they served on sailing ships, but not quite as thick. I picked up a couple of bottles for medical use on Earth.

As long as that is all it's used for then I'll not confiscate it, she claimed, taking another sip from her mug. It's powerful stuff and this is a comparatively dry ship!

Sorry, Ma'am, he apologised crestfallen. But it is traditional and I find it helps sometimes.

She laughed easily at him. Then take a good swig before you propose to Seven! She demanded.

He grinned sheepishly. You realised I chickened out the other day then?

I guessed, she admitted. But why the necklace?

It was a sort of apology, he admitted humbly. For my actions on the shuttle, for acting as I did with Miss Provarich. Just to remind her that I love her!

And I assume you have a really amazing ring to give her when you finally overcome your cowardice? She teased.

I think so, Ma'am!

May I see it? She asked gently. I don't think she entirely appreciated the necklace!

Sheepishly he reached inside his jacket and withdrew his much depleted bag of possessions and shook out a single ring.

The Captain grabbed it the moment it hit the table and held it up to the light. It's beautiful! She exclaimed, twisting and turning it. What are the stones?

The centre one is a genuine Sapphire, I'm afraid the ones in the necklace are replicated, he apologised. The cluster around it are largely diamond chips. He stammered in his embarrassment. 

I thought it matched her nature and her eyes, cool and crystal clear. Do you think it suitable? He asked nervously. I could make something more conventional, if you think it isn't?

She stared at him, surprised at his nervousness and the obvious fear he had of upsetting Seven. Oh yes, it is suitable! She whispered huskily, handing it back to him. She would be both mad and stupid not to appreciate it, she is neither, she assured him.

Thank you, Ma'am! He breathed gratefully, putting the bag back inside his jacket.

He drained his mug. Thank you for my tea, Ma'am. I had better leave you to recuperate from the ordeal, he saluted and turned for the door as the yellow alert sounded.

Captain to the Bridge, the demand came over the ships communications systems.

The Captain cursed quietly reaching for her still sodden jacket and shrugging it on. Are you coming? She demanded as she pushed past heading for the lift at high speed.

Of course, Ma'am, he responded following hard on her heels.

I'm a mess! She complained as the turbo lift headed for the Bridge. And it's all your fault!

It makes you look very war like, Ma'am, he assured her mildly. They'll all be too scared to comment.

It's alright for you. You look like what you are! She hissed. Soldiers are supposed to look grubby, the Captain of a Star Ship isn't supposed to roll in the mud!

He laughed. At least I won't be the only one that is uncomfortable then! He suggested.

The door opened and they tumbled out, the Colonel taking his customary place by the door, whilst the Captain stalked to her chair, daring anybody to comment.

She snapped.

Three vessels detected, Captain, Tuvok announced neutrally from his station. One appears to be the Valorian Royal Yacht, the other two suggest themselves as Valorian fighters. It is reasonable to believe that there are other Valorian vessels in the area.

The Captain stiffened in dread, she remembered their last encounter with the Valorians and the desperate flight from captivity. She glanced back at the Colonel, who was still standing impassively by the doors, incredibly no trace of recognition showed on his face.

Have they hailed us yet? She demanded.

No Captain, Tuvok admitted. But they have detected us and have raised shields, weapons are on line, but they have not attempted to target us.

She took a deep breath. I'm getting changed, she decided firmly. Then I want a tactical appraisal.

She stalked off to the Ready Room.

  
  


Aboard the Royal Yacht, Martha, chief aide to the Princess Madila approached the door to the Princesses quarters carefully, unsure of her Mistresses reaction to the news that they were in detection range of the Voyager and the race that had prompted her to change their policies so radically.

"Your Majesty?" She called from the door, seeking permission to enter.

The door opened for her and she stepped in, allowing it to close behind her before looking around to face her Mistress.

"Martha?" Princess Madila queried sitting up in her chair after examining her computer terminal. "I hope that this mission will be a success," she confided. "The Elgrons, that Star Fleet sent in our direction could be a start in the future, but we need adult males now!"

"Perhaps we could ask them for advice?" Martha suggested, her long service to the Royal Court allowing a certain freedom in familiarity. "We have detected the Federation Ship Voyager, their course is similar to ours, but they seem to be travelling on reduced power."

"Is there an obvious reason why?" Princess Madila demanded.

"We decided not to scan their vessel without your instructions, Your Highness. We have raised our shields as have they and they have scanned our vessels."

"I suppose they are as wary of us as everybody else," the Princess sighed. "Try and establish contact with them. I will speak with Captain Janeway."

  
  


"How should we treat the Valorians?" Captain Janeway started her tactical briefing. "We know that their ships are well armed and protected, so I'm not entertaining hostile solutions."

"They have shown no hostile intent, other than shields," Tuvok announced. "They still haven't attempted to scan Voyager and have not shown resistance to our own scans."

"But they haven't tried to communicate," pointed out Kim.

"So what are they upto?" The Captain demanded.

"We could simply ask, Ma'am," the Colonel suggested mildly. "After all it does take two to talk and they let us go last time."

"But only after imprisoning almost everybody here and trying to send everybody else to the edge of the known Galaxy!" Chakotay protested.

"Never said anything about being pleasant, or not taking precautions," the Colonel snapped back. "The Valorians, despite their unpleasant side were not well placed to be expansionist, so they are here for some other reason than war or chasing us, otherwise the Royal Yacht wouldn't be here as well."

"What are you suggesting, we forget our last meeting?" Chakotay persisted.

"Not forget," the Colonel corrected, "But perhaps be open to them having changed their attitudes, isn't that Star Fleets philosophy?"

They stared at him in surprise, before the Captain laughed. "I never thought I'd hear you extolling Star Fleet virtues at us, Colonel. You're starting to accept them at last?"

"I don't disagree with them, Ma'am!" He protested. "Just the level to which they try to dictate how things will proceed before bowing to the inevitable. In this case, talking for as long as possible is the right action, if only for the most pragmatic reasons. The Valorians are not particularly hostile and if they were, there are too many to fight, so there is nothing to be gained or proved that we haven't already shown. If you are talking to them then they aren't likely to be fighting and Lieutenant Torres can get the engines working properly."

"B'Elanna, when will warp power be available?" The Captain demanded.

"We're reassembling the last injector now, about an hour," Torres announced dutifully.

"In that case I'll try keep them talking that long, I'd like to think that they aren't as unpleasant as we like to think," the Captain agreed amiably. "Lets see what happens!"

With this they adjourned to the Bridge, each retaking their accustomed stations.

"The Valorian Yacht has responded," Tuvok announced almost immediately. "Princess Madila is requesting to speak with you, in private, Captain."

The Captain turned in surprise to her Security Officer, "Oh? Why?" She demanded.

"They have not expressed the reasoning," Tuvok responded impassively. "Just that the Princess is requesting a private audience."

She turned seeking opinions from the other senior Officers, Chakotay shrugged, the Colonel by the door made no sign at all. She was on her own she decided. She sighed, "Put her through to the Ready Room," she demanded heading again to her private rooms.

"I wish to apologise for our actions the last time we met," the Princess started immediately she appeared upon the Captains personal screen. 

The Captain tried to make out the surroundings on the small screen, but didn't answer. From the screen the beautiful Princess appeared to be alone and in some form of office, though that was no guarantee she realised.

Taking the Captains silence as continued disapproval, the Princess continued again, trying to explain. 

"We were, are, desperate to maintain our race. We could not think of any other way to do so other than the way we were, trapping those that would be viable for producing offspring, discarding the rest." 

"You believe we are cruel and violent, but your race has never faced the same situation. I don't expect you to forgive us for what we did, but perhaps you can at least see our reasoning?" The Princess pleaded.

The Captain who had listened to the Princesses admissions spellbound, finally found her voice. "You should make that apology to the people who you've taken as slaves, they might even believe you, Your Highness," she suggested coldly.

The Princess sighed and shrank visibly in the face of the Captain's hostility. "Please Captain Janeway," she implored. "I can't undo what we've done for hundreds of years, it wasn't working. You told us to change, we are trying to change to the way you suggested, but that isn't proving easy either!"

"You have an unpleasant reputation, Your Highness," the Captain pointed out, less sternly than she had intended. She was finding the Valorians singsong voice as intoxicating as the last time they had met.

"Lets assume for the time being, that I am prepared to accept your apology and that you are genuinely trying to change the way you operate," the Captain offered. "Why are you so far from your home territory?"

"We are hoping to meet some people who may be prepared to help us physically," the Princess admitted sheepishly. "But as we appear to be heading in the same direction, perhaps I could beg for your help?"

"How?" the Captain demanded. "I don't think you'll find many volunteers here!"

"I don't know," the Princess admitted sadly. "Perhaps you would allow us to access your data bases, even talk to some of your crew for advice?"

The Captain thought carefully, before replying. "How do we know that you aren't going to try the same stunt again?" She demanded.

"I'll act as your hostage," Princess Madila offered immediately. "You don't have to release me until you are sure that all your crew are safe aboard your vessel."

The Captain looked hard at the Princess. "Are you sure?" She demanded. "We can't offer you the luxury you live in."

"We need help, it is what I must do for my people," the Princess announced nervously.

"I'll get the opinions of some of my officers, I'll contact you in an hour," the Captain agreed. "But some may not be so forgiving," she added in warning before terminating her call.

She took a moment to compose herself before returning to the Bridge.

"Conference call, all Senior Officers now," she demanded as she passed through the Bridge. "That includes you Colonel, Seven of Nine as well," she added, brooking no discussion or argument.

Puzzled they gathered in the Conference Room and waited for the Captain to begin her briefing.

Dutifully she did so. "Princess Madila wants our help," she started. "But I'm not prepared to give it unless you are all in agreement, because of what they tried last time. The Princess has given me assurances for our safety, but the help she wants isn't the easiest for most of us to give."

"What help does she want, Ma'am?" The Colonel asked impatiently.

"Something you're very good at with everybody but yourself, Colonel," the Captain announced cheerfully. "They want to learn about human emotions, especially 'love'."

The Colonel glared at her uncomfortably. "How do they expect to learn about that? It tends to be a personal thing, not something in a text book!" He protested.

"I think I'll hold up Seven as a case of 'Struggle to get your man'," B'Elanna giggled.

"And Lieutenant Paris as the case of 'Love in adversity'," the Colonel shot back immediately, silencing the Klingon engineer. 

"I'm sorry, Ma'am," he apologised. "I think I may have interrupted you. Could you start at the beginning, I think I may have missed something important."

The Captain sighed, the Colonel was right about love, she decided and she had not explained what they had discussed properly. She described the discussion that they had had.

When she had finished there was a hushed silence about the room, finally she announced, "If there is one negative around the table I'll refuse to help them, except supply our texts on the subject. Tuvok?"

"They showed no interest in me, nor am I able to explain the condition accept in it's most logical form," he pointed out neutrally, "I have no interest or objection."

"Harry?"

"I'm not sure if I can offer help, I have too many difficulties in that field of my own," he volunteered to the surprise of the gathering.

"In that case you probably have more to offer than the rest of us," the Colonel observed drily.

Harry Kim nodded.

"Neelix?" The Captain continued her remorseless route around the table.

"No objection," he responded quickly.

"B'Elanna?" She now hit the ones that she considered the most tricky.

"Provided they don't try and trap Tom," she agreed amicably. "If they do, I will demonstrate Klingon mating rituals," she added brightly.

The Captain cringed at the idea. "Tom?"

"Perhaps our wedding will help?" He suggested, reaching for B'Elanna's hand.

The Captain nodded an agreement. "Chakotay?"

"It might do us all some good, to confess our sins," Chakotay mused. "What happens if some of the crew decide they wish to join the Valorians?"

"I'll cross that bridge if we need to," the Captain breezed. "There are enough relationships aboard this ship for the numbers not to be great. I'm right aren't I Colonel?" She quizzed the Colonel as the immediate fount of all knowledge of the crews personal status.

"There are a number of relationships, but I wouldn't like to place bets on their permanence," he warned. "The Valorians tend to be quite distracting. There is also the problem that some of the crew may wish to demonstrate. How will the Princess feel if half her crew go home impregnated before they learn what it is about?"

"They are desperate enough that I don't think they will be as distressed as I would be," the Captain admitted. "Doctor?"

"I can get Mr Neelix to introduce a mild contraceptive in the food?" He offered. "And I have the training course I prepared for Seven?"

"It should be deleted," Seven interrupted. "It is inaccurate."

"I suspect it isn't, just badly narrated and without feeling," B'Elanna put in. Give it to the Colonel or Neelix to narrate.

"I'm not having contraceptives put in the food, I'll warn the Princess and she can make her own arrangements," the Captain announced. 

"Do you two have any objections? You were probably the nearest to being hurt and the most to lose," She asked pointedly of the last two in the room, the Colonel and Seven.

"I'm a soldier, Ma'am. Getting hurt is in the job description," he said obliquely.

"I will follow the opinions of the majority," Seven agreed impartially.

The Captain smiled in relief. "Seven if you can prepare your data on the subject for them to download, you can also be their guide to the range of romantic fiction in the databanks, you must have read all of them by now! Colonel you had better do what you do best, offer a listening ear to them, but make sure you have a chaperone."

"That goes for the rest of the male crew, and I want a female guard for the Princess, we'll put her in my quarters for the duration," she added.

  
  


Despite outward appearances it was a nervous Captain Janeway that met the first group of Valorians to arrive aboard Voyager. The Valorian party was led as expected by the Princess Madila and her aide Martha.

"Captain Janeway, thank you for your help," the Princess led the discussion again. "We are very grateful for your agreement."

"As long as you keep to our agreement, you are welcome, Your Highness," the Captain responded stiffly. "You have met the others present, so I'll not introduce you again."

"Indeed I have," the Princess agreed readily. "I see you brought the Colonel along and he looks as impressive as always."

She turned to Seven of Nine who was standing protectively close to the Colonel. "I feel I must apologise to you especially, Seven of Nine," she announced. "I tried to steal him away from you, I am most dreadfully sorry, please forgive me?"

"You failed," Seven pointed out haughtily.

"I know!" She admitted despondently. "I realise now I was doomed to fail. Perhaps you will be able to show me how to get your man to be so faithful?"

"Perhaps," Seven admitted carefully. "If I can work out what occurred myself," she added in her own mind, but avoided saying so out loud.

"If you will follow us, Your Highness," Captain Janeway intercepted nervously. "I will show you to your quarters."

Deferentially she led the Princess away to her quarters.

I hope you will find these adequate, she announced showing the Princess in. They aren't as luxurious as yours, but they are the best we have, she found herself apologising to her former foe.

It looks as though somebody has moved out? The Princess commented. You haven't moved anybody just because of me have you?

They are mine, the Captain admitted. I haven't moved everything there wasn't time.

But Captain, I can't ask you to move from your quarter's, I'm your guarantee and hostage! The Princess protested in shock.

The only other place available is the Brig, it isn't private and I don't want you to feel you are a prisoner, Your Highness. I am the only person aboard the ship who has a choice about where to spend their private time, I'll be quite comfortable in my Ready Room, the Captain assured her.

The Princess sighed. They will be very comfortable, thank you. Please I want to be friends, won't you use Madila when we are alone? She pleaded.

The Captain smiled. I've been trying that line on the Colonel since he joined the ship, but he never has, she commented ruefully. But I will if you will use Kathryn in the same situation, she offered.

Thank you again, Kathryn, the Princess laughed. But will the Colonel and Seven of Nine ever forgive me for what I tried to do? She added seriously.

For the Colonel, I don't think he thinks there is anything to forgive, he believes life is too short to bear a grudge, Kathryn commented. As for Seven, I don't honestly know. They love each other intensely, she is struggling to snare him properly but there is no way anybody will break them apart.

Will you join my Senior Officers for dinner tonight, informal dress? Kathryn Janeway offered, changing the subject.

I would be delighted, especially if the Colonel will sing? Madila enthusiastically accepted.

  
  


The Colonel had had misgivings over how teaching aliens about love could be achieved, it seemed an unnatural idea to him. The lack of better ideas had him gamely reviewing the Doctor's course on love and relationships and had found some positive points, despite Seven of Nines cold declaration upon the subject. Together he and Neelix had gone through and reworded most of it, then persuaded Crewman Winston and Ensign Kala to narrate with the feelings that the Doctor missed. 

Together they watched as the spellbound Valorians watched and participated in the performance on the Holodeck and congratulated each other on that part of the task well done. Then prepared to field the inevitable questions that would undoubtedly appear. For that they had drafted in as many of the crew who could be persuaded to volunteer, to explain their experiences and opinion, whilst providing social company. The fact that he had found any volunteers, surprised the Colonel, but, he reasoned, that the Valorians were beautiful and when taken off their guard they were actually quite pleasant. He also had no delusions as to what some of the male members of the crew were interested in, or the effects that their attractive guests would have in their naiveté and had raided the Doctor's supplies for all the contraceptives that he could find specifically for the purpose, making sure they were known to be available.

All the same he was taken by surprise when Ensign Kala and Crewman Winston approached him.

Do you believe what we were saying? Kala asked first.

You were narrating and it sounded convincing, the Colonel pointed out guardedly. It was a good job. What do you believe?

The regulations state that special permission must be received before interracial marriage, Kala pointed out.

If I was remotely interested in what Star Fleet Regulations believed I'd go and read them, the Colonel pointed out sharply. I asked what you believed. But as you asked me, it was right in as far as it went, opportunity, action and success. They are the basic rules of life itself, how they are applied is as different as the people involved.

You are thinking of yourselves though? He suggested shrewdly.

They nodded in unison.

Is it the difference in rank or race that worries you? He asked.

He followed on, not letting them answer. For rank, I suppose it is still frowned upon for an officer to marry a pleb, even now. But I don't think that need worry you, when Voyager gets home most of us will be made Admirals, until then I think the Captain is broadminded on the subject. If it's race, I knew many relationships that succeeded without children, love needn't be hampered or helped with kids. Only you know if you are really in love or not and what you need to prove it to yourselves.

I will give you one piece of advice though, whether you want to follow it or not is upto you, he added with a sudden grin. 

They looked at him expectantly.

Enjoy yourselves! He laughed at their serious faces.

Now if you'll excuse me, I'd better depart for the Captains dinner. Miss Nine and I are late!

With that he got up, taking Seven of Nine gently by the arm he led her away.

You believe that people do really know when they are in love? She quizzed cautiously as they entered the Turbo Lift.

Or not as the case maybe, he said cheerfully. Sometimes it takes time for it to work it's way through the system, a few bruises, scratches and dents here and there need to be gathered first. What do you think? He challenged her.

I have had little interaction with the condition, she excused herself guardedly.

He laughed. You know, you do go the most subtle shade of pink when you blush, Miss Nine! It would be so easy to miss, he hid her further embarrassment by kissing her on the lips.

For protecting me, he whispered, as the doors opened onto the Bridge.

  
  


You seem to be unusually cheerful? Captain Janeway interrogated the Colonel as they stepped into the Conference Room. Is there something I ought to be aware of yet? she accused hopefully.

Nothing to worry about yet, Ma'am, he assured her. But to misinterpret the Chinese curse, we could be in for interesting times! 

From that statement he would not be drawn further as he sat at the table with the faithful Seven of Nine by his side.

We have met some friends of yours on our journey, the Princess commented as coffee was passed around.

The Captain asked in fascination. We don't appear to attract a huge number, who were they?

The Elgrons, they seemed to be commanded by two Cathors and a Felongran who thought they were Royal Marines'? She questioned the last statement.

The Colonel's training, the Captain explained quickly. He was teaching them to fight like him. Will you take care of the Elgrons properly?

I didn't think there was much to teach the Knights, the Princess frowned. They are formidable fighters. But we will care for the Elgrons and they can stay or go as they wish, I promise, the Princess smiled. It is something else I should thank you for.

There was an infant, Anneka. She is well? Seven suddenly demanded.

A baby? The Princess exclaimed. Yes, she is well and developing. She is regarded as important by those aboard. Why?

I assisted in the delivery, Seven claimed. She was important to Colonel Samuels. Her relief obvious and elicited a number of smiles and cryptic gazes from around the table.

Seven became quite attached to her! The Captain whispered to the Princess.

Dinner finished in good humour, until the Princess in her innocence asked, Please tell me Colonel. Why did you become a soldier?

A frown passed across the Captains face at the unintentional error from the Princess, she sighed in relief as the Colonel grinned.

The Recruiting Officer promised me a bed, Your Highness. He said it would be as big as a field, he laughed. Of course he meant it literally and I've slept in thousands now. But I was young and naive then, I didn't catch the meaning. 

But, Oh, the promise of a bed of my own! One that I didn't have to share anymore, he reminisced wistfully. I would have sold my soul for that! 

You mean you never had a bed as a child? The Captain demanded, before she could stop herself, then bit her tongue hard amidst the shocked looks that surrounded the table.

Oh I did, I was a big lad and nobody would argue, at least not for long, he admitted cheerfully. But in the Workhouse dormitory where I was billeted there were thirty beds between forty kids ranging from six to sixteen. The biggest and strongest got the beds. It's just that I didn't like seeing the smaller ones sleeping on the floor.

Took me months to get the hang of the fact I was actually allowed to sleep in the bed I was given in the army though! He added cheerfully.

You're telling another of your stories, you made it up? B'Elanna Torres chided hopefully, secretly suspecting that he had not.

Perhaps some of it! He offered. But the truth is often stranger than fiction, or so they say, and places like that still existed then, cold, damp, overcrowded and rat infested. Nor was I an angel in the darkness, I got paid for my Charity', any sweets and fruit that were in the offing, I got them. 

I got even more when I made one of the rats into a pet and released it in the girls dormitory. I rescued them from it. Worked a treat until a warden stamped on it! He grinned, lightening the mood again.

Now that I've told you my dark secret, what can you tell us about Sharawonga, Your Highness? The Colonel smoothly changed the subject from the one that appeared to be causing so much discomfort around the table.

It is a beautiful planet, but regulated, she described. A neutral planet dedicated to relaxation and commerce. We were intending to meet representatives from various planets to create a mutual defence league. 

Possibly with other benefits, she added.

Soldiers and mercenaries, in my experience Ma'am, rarely make the best mates, the Colonel commented mildly.

If I meet a few like you then it will be worth it, she responded smiling. I'm sure there must be others like you.

I sincerely hope you meet one that suits you, the Colonel smiled warmly.

Thank you, she accepted. But could I beg you to sing something for us? Kathryn promised you would.

If that is acceptable to everybody else? Then I'd be delighted, Ma'am! He looked around the table for any sign of discontent. Finding none he stood. I think you may find this one appropriate, Your Highness, he announced. Love Changes Everything.

Miss Nine, would you accompany me? He asked hopefully.

  
  


An hour later the Colonel made his excuses and escorted Seven of Nine to her quarters. At the door he stopped and kissed her, before escaping. The day had been long and trying, forcing him to think of feelings he usually tried to ignore, today they had built up without the normal checks and balances that were normally available. He wanted time to beat them down again before being alone with his beautiful girlfriend for long on his own.

You will join me for a Night Cap', Seven demanded nervously. There are things we should discuss for tomorrows she reasoned.

As you wish, Ma'am, he sighed.

He followed her in dutifully. The next thing he knew he was slammed hard against the wall, winding him. Before he could recover he found himself pinned there by Seven of Nine.

Miss Nine! He protested weakly, but was prevented from uttering more as her mouth sort his. Their teeth clashed for a moment, then he accepted her, together they formed into a long and firm embrace.

I love you! She announced, when she finally released him and he sank to the floor.

I love you too, the Colonel gasped, still shaken. But that was something else!

It was not adequate? She asked threateningly.

He assured her rapidly, suddenly afraid she would do it again, but harder and break his back the next time.

You will use the bed. I will regenerate in the chair, she announced calmly.

Not while there is breath in my body! He protested sharply.

It can be arranged, she offered, imitating his gently mocking voice. You expressed a desire for a bed of your own.

But that was years ago, when I was a kid, he protested nervously backing away from the determined young woman who was advancing upon him. I'm fully grown up now and there is a difference!

I wish to care for you, she announced coldly. Your refusal to be cared for is not acceptable.

She grabbed him and threw him at the bed. He landed face first upon the mattress head hitting the wall at the head. Stunned he rolled groggily onto his back, to see Seven of Nine sitting back in the chair beside him.

You're still not sleeping in the chair! He gasped in defiance. Bruises or not!

He struggled to get up and was pushed back again by the rampant Seven.

We will see. I will care for you, she hissed determinedly, holding him down.

If this goes on neither of us will regenerate, he pointed out. Struggling hard he freed an arm, wrapped it around her and pulled her down on top of him.

Of course, he suggested brightly, rolling over her and returning the pin. We could always share?

That is acceptable, Seven agreed readily and pulled him down so that she could roll him over again, then settled her head on his shoulder.

  
  


He awoke a little earlier than normal to find Seven of Nine had twisted during the night, but was still sprawled over him. She had slipped off his chest, and now rested firmly against it, head still firmly on his shoulder and stomach across his thighs, her arms still wrapped around him. He suspected the position was as uncomfortable as the desires he was feeling. Gently he grasped her bottom and slid it off of him, then tried to turn to face her properly. He was stopped as her leg immediately slid across him again.

I love you, she repeated drowsily in her sleep. Resistance is futile.

I'm not resisting, he whispered back. I just want you to be comfortable!

This is comfortable! Her sleepy voice disputed.

He lay still and considered if whatever questions he had had over their relationship had been answered. Uncertain if they had ever really existed, he gave up and simply held her gently until she woke properly.

You could at least have let me take my jacket and belt off, he chided gently, when she finally stirred.

You would have attempted to escape, she pointed out calmly. I did not wish it. I love you! She repeated firmly, kissing him hard on the neck.

I love you, he answered truthfully. But if you could, please remove your leg? Then I can find us some tea?

She slid her leg away dutifully, then slammed it back between his as he twisted to get up, preventing further movement.

It is very dangerous for anybody to get between a man and his tea, he observed mildly, as he settled back, finally able to wrap his arms around her properly.

The danger is acceptable, her reply was muffled as she buried her face in his neck again.

They lay there for a while, too comfortable to move, until he caught a glimpse of the chronometer. Come on, he urged, I'm getting too comfortable and you've things to do. Lieutenant Torres will be here in a minute to give you instructions about her engines and what to do tomorrow.

Reluctantly she released him and he climbed off and busied himself with his ablutions, whilst Seven prepared for her day. As he completed, she took him in her arms again. You will be safe? She demanded.

I won't leave the sight of my Marines or the Captain, he assured her happily. Besides where am I going to get this sort of attention?

Disengaging himself from her grip he opened the door to be faced by B'Elanna Torres. 

Good Morning, Lieutenant, he announced crisply. Miss Seven is ready for you and I'm just leaving, he excused himself and marched for the Mess.

He looks decidedly creased and happy this morning! B'Elanna observed as she stepped across the threshold. Have you done anything to him? She accused gently.

I instructed him that I loved him, Seven responded neutrally, eyeing the fleeing figure from the doorway.

The Klingon suggested with a grin, noting the still rumpled bed and slightly unkempt Seven. I always thought it was only Klingons that used violence to express their love.

There was some debate, she admitted carefully.

B'Elanna started to giggle at the idea of Seven and the Colonel debating how Seven felt for him. It was stopped short as Seven spoke again. 

I intend to inform him that we will form a collective tomorrow at your reception. You have no objection?

The Klingon stood stunned, her mouth working furiously for a few moments before she could engage properly. Sure, it's about time. But why there? She asked in surprise.

Ensign Wildman suggested he would not be able to refuse.

B'Elanna grinned wolfishly. She's probably right and it will be the event of the year, she enthused. But don't tell anybody, the effect will be all the rarer if he doesn't know what is about to hit him! She urged.

You have instructions as to my duties during your honeymoon? Seven inquired calmly turning back to the matter in hand.

  
  


You look as though you've been dragged through a hedge backwards! The Captain observed as she joined the Colonel for breakfast in the Mess.

he quizzed from his bowl.

There's a button loose on your tunic, the tunic is creased, there's hair over your ear and you appear to have the makings of a black eye. It suggests it was a hard night, not you at all! She laughed.

Self-consciously he checked and found to his horror that she was right. I'll correct the defects at once, Ma'am! He apologised.

She laughed again. Not on my account. I've been practising the rules from your book. What happened, robbers on deck 5, waylaid by footpads on the way to the Mess? She suggested brightly.

No, Ma'am! He admitted, accepting the teasing in good nature. Miss Nine had different ideas as to sleeping arrangements. I think I lost.

Good, it's about time some one took control of you! Now what have you planned for the day?

The Marines are providing honour guard tomorrow, so I need to get them dressed for formal wear, then an hours practise. After lunch I've volunteered to look after Commander Chakotay's watch so that he can take Lieutenant Paris to the Holodecks for a party, he announced smartly.

You're not going? She exclaimed.

Not on your life, he grinned. Mine was bad enough. They got me so drunk I couldn't stand then chained me to the two biggest Provosts you've ever seen! 

Perhaps I can persuade you to come for a drink with my party? The Captain grinned. Seven will be there!

I think I will respectfully pass on that one too, Ma'am. Hen party's tend to be worse! The Colonel declined happily.

But I think the ship is happier today than I've ever seen it, he added encouragingly. It is going to be the event of the year at least. I wish the couple all they wish for themselves.

I'm waiting for another one and it will mean as much, she prompted teasingly. 

How are the Valorians doing really? She asked more seriously. Before I allow another party aboard.

Surprisingly well I think, he admitted. The male crew are behaving exceptionally well considering the provocative attire that the Valorians wear. The Valorians themselves seem to be enjoying the attention they are getting and I suspect you may find at least two crew members that want to jump ship. The contraceptives I put aside went down appreciably, but I wouldn't guarantee their use. This is a naval ship when all is said and done, he reported calmly.

I'll wait and see about that as well, she agreed getting up. Carry on, Alan!

He announced standing and saluting as was his custom.

She left him formulating her own plans for the following day.

  
  


Colonel Samuels arrived on the Bridge as agreed punctually at 15:00. Permission to step on the Bridge, Commander? he announced crisply and standing to attention.

Permission granted, Chakotay announced happily, releasing his seat to the Colonel. 

The Captain is in her Ready Room. Keep station with the Valorian ships, otherwise everything is quiet. Remember that they aren't the Dog Watch so go easy on them, he urged. Any advice for me?

Use your best Nelson touch? the Colonel suggested with a grin. Keep your hand in your jacket and turn a blind eye?

Chakotay laughed and left.

Are you sure I can't tempt you to join me? The Captain teased wickedly an hour later as she emerged from her Ready Room, ready to party.

The Colonel grinned. I think I'll be safer here, Ma'am. Bored perhaps, but definitely a lot safer.

Shame! I might send Seven up to bring you, she threatened as the lift door closed behind her.

Shaking his head the Colonel settled back in the Commanders chair to wait the shift out.

  
  


The Mess was a riot of noise when the Captain entered. Somebody had activated the sound system and music pounded through the room, it sounded like sixty's rock and roll, or perhaps Mutang Soul to her, not that she was any judge, but she knew B'Elanna had a taste for the music from the time that fascinated Tom Paris. Carefully she scanned the crowd that had gathered, counting those that were there. It looked as though virtually all the female off duty crew were there and a few that ought to be on duty as well she guessed. She would have to have a few words with the section leaders about keeping their departments properly manned at all times. A crewman thrust a glass into her hand, Your drink, Captain! She shouted then disappeared into the crowd again before she could thank her.

Finally she caught sight of B'Elanna sitting near the centre of the room, with Seven of Nine in nervous but conscientious attendance. Carefully she made her way through the throng towards them. 

This is quite a party! She yelled.

I know! B'Elanna laughed back. I never knew I was so popular!

The Valorian's seem to have got the hang of it! B'Elanna pointed to a group of the slender Valorians who were happily dancing and laughing with crew members in a clear area of the room.

I hope the drink doesn't go to their heads! The Captain shouted back.

It's not alcoholic! Shouted Samantha Wildman. It's just the mood. We've not had anything to celebrate for so long!

It's not! She exclaimed in surprise, looking at the orange fizzing drink in her hand. She sipped it carefully. It tasted unfamiliar. What is it?

Orange juice and soda water, well chilled, Sam Wildman assured her. I put some champagne aside for toasting later. We guessed there might be a few that dropped by on the way somewhere or other.

The Captain smiled gratefully at the thoughtful Ensign, crew may be paying rookie but they would still be available if needed.

She looked at Seven who was gazing at the events happening around her with obvious confusion.

What do you think, Seven? She called.

I find it uncomfortable! She announced. I am unsure of the purpose? Is it recreational?

Sort of! She laughed. Look if we go into the Galley I'll explain, I'm not shouting anymore! She added at the Borg's quizzical look.

Seven nodded and stood ready to follow the Captain. But before the Captain could move B'Elanna pulled her down and whispered conspirationally in her ear. Seven wants to propose tomorrow!

The Captain started at the news, then smiled. Come on Seven we have things to discuss! She led the Borg away, gently but firmly by the arm.

Entering Neelix's Galley they found another two crewmen moving trays of food to the counter, they left hurriedly at the Captains glare.

She stood reflectively for a moment until Seven interrupted her reverie. You were going to explain the relevance of the party? She reminded her.

Oh, yes. It is a chance to let ones hair down for the last time with friends and anybody else that takes your fancy, she explained quickly, too quickly for Seven of Nines sometimes slow response to human terminology.

I was not aware that there was anybody else aboard the ship that Lieutenant Torres had an interest in, Seven observed blandly.

That's true, the Captain admitted. But if there was, this would be her last chance to experiment, she added lamely.

If Lieutenant Torres wished to experiment further it is unlikely she would have agreed to marry Lieutenant Paris, Seven observed logically.

The Captain stared at her in surprise, she had forgotten Seven of Nine tended to take things literally and had studied Tom and B'Elanna's relationship with the sort of intense keenness and logicality that only she could bring to bare. 

she tried a different approach. Tomorrow Tom and B'Elanna are going to make vows of absolute loyalty to each other. They are publicly and legally forming their own little collective. They are going to lose some of the freedom to act in the way they choose, because they will have to think of the other. We are celebrating that loss. Then kicked herself for the last statement, it was going to put her in the mire.

You wish people to lose their freedom? The expected question and eyebrow appeared.

In this case, yes, the Captain claimed trying to regain the high ground again. It's of their own choice and they will become better than they are on their own, because it gives them somebody to care for and know they are cared for.

Seeing the confusion that was still evident in Seven's face she changed the subject quickly. B'Elanna said you are intending to propose to the Colonel? Are you sure? 

I wish him to know I care for him. That is the purpose of marriage, to give some of your freedom to care for somebody else. That is the definition that you have just supplied, Seven of Nine responded immediately.

Yes I suppose I did, the Captain admitted, then broke into a broad grin. We were wrong when we tried to teach you about love and human relations as simple lessons, she laughed. You've found your own meaning and I think it is one that many of us are still trying to find and with a lot less success. 

She reached up and kissed her on the cheek, I'll look forward to seeing his face when you propose and don't take No' as an answer! She prompted

I will, Seven announced, a distinct smile crossing her fine features. However a similar party will not be required. I have had no desire to experiment' with other members of the crew, nor do I consider myself to be losing any degree of freedom.

No, I don't suppose you are, the Captain commented thoughtfully. Simply finding a new level of freedom.

They re-entered the party in time for a hush to fall upon the gathering as Colonel Samuels passed through the door with the Princess Madila holding his arm.

Excuse me, Ma'am! He announced, guiding the Princess to B'Elanna Torres. But the Princess asked if she could join your party?

I'm sure she can, B'Elanna agreed cheerfully. But what are you doing here? This is ladies night.

Ah, well the shift is over, the Princess was lost near the holodecks and needed an escort. Other than that duty done, leaving, he excused himself. Good Night, Ma'am.! He saluted quickly and turned for the door to be faced by thirty crew women.

Excuse me ladies! He called hopefully, pushing forward. Instead of opening for him they closed around him. 

The ten minutes that followed, he decided afterwards were the longest of his dubious life, as he found himself repeatedly kissed by all the various party goers, finally to be ejected on to his hands and knees in front of a well known and tightly clad pair of legs. Nervously he looked up to see Seven of Nine's impassive face looking down at him.

If you came to protect me, I think you were a little late, he complained, blushing a deep red. The idea of the Cavalry is to arrive at just the right time.

Unsmiling she gripped his jacket and pulled him up. I have not come to rescue you, she assured him, then pulled him into another savage kiss and embrace that crushed him against her, to the applause of those surrounding them.

Releasing him at last, he sagged visibly. The door is that way, Seven pointed out, spinning him around and propelling him towards it.

I don't think he will need a party, either! A satisfied Seven commented to Captain Janeway, as she stepped up beside her.

No, I don't suppose he will, the Captain admitted pensively. But it was an extremely cruel way of proving it. I'll have the airlocks secured, if he went any redder from embarrassment he'd burst.

  
  


The idea of an airlock, did cross Colonel Samuels mind as he staggered down the corridor, if only to cool the hot flush he was feeling throughout his body. In the end he settled for a cold shower, reasoning that it had been his own fault, it had been his curiosity had led him into that scenario. 

He could have just left the Princess at the door, he scolded himself. He knew what happened at that sort of party, didn't he? Besides he had actually enjoyed the experience, he realised guiltily as he made his way towards his Shuttle Bay billet. There was no way he wanted to face Seven of Nine again that night with feelings running so high.

Seven of Nine was another problem, he realised, as he settled himself into his blanket bed. There was something more than simple mischief in her attitude for the last few days. Her teasing had become a lot more blatant, obvious and crueller and she had rarely been so open about her feelings before. He suspected she had something planned for him, but his befuddled mind couldn't decide what it was before he fell to sleep.

Somewhere in his dreams, he felt slender arms encircle him, lips kissing him gently and a voice whispering, I love you!. He rolled feeling for the warm body that ought to be there, but finding nothing he curled up into a protective ball and let the ghosts get on with their play.

Is he alright? The Captain demanded in a concerned whisper, as Seven of Nine emerged from the Shuttle Bay, without the Colonel. Her concern for his safety after the extreme levels of embarrassment that had been heaped on the Colonel during B'Elanna's party had grown considerably when she had checked his location and had found he was in the Shuttle Bay. It had prompted her to bring Seven of Nine down to the shuttle Bay to check on his physical condition and pull him out to be cared for if necessary.

He is sleeping safely, Seven of Nine assured her, showing none of the Captains concerns. He ought to be allowed a last night of Freedom' to do as he wishes, she added more cynically.

Perhaps you're right, Captain Janeway sighed. Good Night. I'll see you tomorrow! She turned and walked off towards the Turbo Lift.

Seven of Nine waited for a moment, deciding whether to rejoin the Colonel and protect him whether he wanted it or not, then common sense took hold, he wanted to be alone for a while she realised. She set off for her regeneration alcove.

  
  


Am I doing the right thing? B'Elanna demanded of Seven of Nine in near panic and for the fourth time that morning.

You were certain until 23:00 last night, Seven assured her impassively, for the fourth time since she had arrived at 07:00 that morning. It was now 08:45 and B'Elanna's nerves were shot.

But what happens if it isn't? She pleaded.

You will adapt each other to suit, Seven of Nine snapped. You will sit still whilst I correct your hair! She demanded.

She added as B'Elanna tried to look around at the shambles that was her bedroom.

But the room is a mess. I'm a mess! She exclaimed.

That is irrelevant. You will be sharing quarters with Lieutenant Paris tonight, Seven of Nine responded.

Do you think I am doing the right thing? B'Elanna tried again.

Seven of Nine paused reflectively at the change of tack. It is my observation that Lieutenant Paris tries hard to be the object of your affections. It is not his recorded attitude to be so persistent. You have not seriously assaulted him, it seems logical that you will remain in much the same state after becoming a collective.

You're a big help, B'Elanna complained.

My experience of a personal involvement are limited to Lieutenant Colonel Samuels. I have not had the benefit of your experiences, our relationship developed differently, Seven of Nine pointed out. 

I suppose it did, B'Elanna giggled. How is he today? I thought you killed him last night after that kiss, talk about smouldering!

I do not know, Seven admitted. I have not seen him, he spent the night in the Shuttle Bay. However he is currently in Holodeck 2, preparing for the service.

You mean you haven't been to see him? B'Elanna exclaimed in surprise.

We both have duties to perform, Seven of Nine responded impassively.

Okay, is there anything I've forgotten? B'Elanna sighed.

Seven announced handing her a slim box. 

Surprised, B'Elanna opened the box. But it's your necklace, why? She stammered.

I believe it is traditional, Seven of Nine explained. Something new, something old, something borrowed, something blue, it is claimed it brings luck. The necklace is new, borrowed and blue. 

I have not found anything suitable for old, she admitted.

I have a broach, I think it was my Grandmothers! B'Elanna exclaimed rummaging in a draw. Will that be suitable? She gasped handing a small green gem to Seven.

We shall assume it is, Seven of Nine agreed impassively, fastening it just below the collar of B'Elanna's dress jacket.

Stepping back she inspected the Klingon Engineer with a meticulous eye, finding nothing wrong, she announced. We should leave now!

Thank you, Seven. I couldn't have done it without your help. B'Elanna Torres finally broke, burying her face in the surprised Borgs shoulder. I'm sorry for the things I've said to you in the past!

Uncertain as to how to proceed, Seven of Nine took the Colonels solution and held the Klingon until she recovered.

  
  


The rest of Voyagers crew were waiting nervously for the arrival of the bride. None more so than Tom Paris and Captain Janeway standing at attention in front of the alter of the holographic church and Chakotay pacing impatiently outside in front of the two marines who stood at ease with their unfamiliar rifles.

The latter stiffened suddenly to attention in expectation as they heard the familiar sharp echoes of Seven of Nine's heels on the deck. Seeing them stiffen Chakotay looked around to see B'Elanna Torres holding Seven of Nine's arm firmly as they marched towards them.

I was beginning to think you weren't coming! Chakotay exclaimed, taking Seven of Nine's place.

We are the required fifteen minutes late, Seven of Nine observed impassively.

Chakotay chuckled then stiffened so that he could escort B'Elanna down the aisle properly, with Seven of Nine taking station behind them.

Inside, as if by cue, the Colonel changed tunes in mid bar from Beethoven to the Here Comes the Bride' as the doors swung open to reveal B'Elanna, Chakotay and Seven of Nine. Gracefully they marched down the aisle to stand next to Tom Paris, who shyly looked at his new bride.

Crew and family of the Star Ship Voyager, the Captain announced impressively as the Colonel stopped playing. We are gathered here to witness the union of two of our finest officers in matrimony. This is a traditional setting and should remind us that marriage is a state that has been of vital importance to humans for thousands of years. But we also have our own way of doing things and Lieutenant's Paris and Torres have prepared their own vows, in place of the regulation text.

She prompted gently.

Tom Paris turned to face his bride. I'm still not sure what I've done to deserve you, or how or why you fell in love with me, he started quietly. But I promise to try and keep doing it and I shall continue to love and honour you for as long as we both shall live!

Harry, the ring! The Captain whispered urgently.

Ensign Kim fumbled hurriedly in his pocket and produced the required items, handing the first to Tom Paris.

This is my token of my undying love, Paris announced, sliding the ring firmly onto B'Elanna's finger.

You were the only one that cared enough for me to stay with me when there was nobody else, you have been the one that tried to understand me and kept trying even when it became painful, B'Elanna smiled in reply. I promise I shall love, honour and obey you for as long as we both shall live!

She took her ring from Seven of Nine and pushed it onto Tom Paris's finger. This is my token of my undying love, she whispered.

It is my pleasant duty, in the time honoured traditions of Captains at sea, to pronounce you as husband and wife! Captain Janeway announced quickly, before her two officers got carried away.

You can kiss now! She prompted quietly, as if they needed any prompting and to the cheers of the congregation.

Arm in arm they turned and marched purposely up the Aisle again, to the sound of the Colonel playing the Wedding March' to the full capabilities of the replicated church organ. As the two newly weds stepped off the holodeck, there came four sharp retorts as the Marines fired a ceremonial salute in their honour. They ducked instinctively, then laughed and kissed each other again, as the two soldiers fell in to escort the couple to the Mess Deck for their reception.

Well that is something I thought would never see happen! Captain Janeway commented happily to the Colonel as they walked out. And the setting was perfect, it's made all the difference thank you. But those marines, they're in traditional costume? They're nearly as smart as you are!

I told you I would train them as Royal Marines, Ma'am. Black trousers, red tunic and white pith helmets are traditional ceremonial for the Marines, he assured her happily as they entered the Mess. They deserve the recognition.

They were approached in greeting by a happy Tom and B'Elanna as they entered.

Well Mr and Mrs Paris. I hope you are satisfied with yourselves, everybody else seems to be! Colonel Samuels observed with a grin.

Mind you it's going to complicate things at times for the Captain, with two Lieutenant Paris's to shout at, he added conspiratorially. I hope the Captain makes you Lieutenant Commander soon Ma'am, to prove your seniority to your rag-a-muffin husband.

B'Elanna laughed and reached up to kiss the tall soldier. He knows and I'll make sure he doesn't forget, she promised. And I didn't get the chance to do this last night. She kissed him again, Thank you.

I'll blush, he warned.

Not as much as last night, she responded happily before turning away again, seeking out Seven of Nine.

Finding her standing by the window with Ensign Wildman, she put her arm around her waist good naturedly. Thank you again, Seven, she started. You were perfect, keeping calm despite my nerves. Now it's your turn, she prompted, pushing her flowers into Seven of Nine's hand. Give him a couple of minutes to have a drink and move away from the door.

A few minutes later Colonel Samuels found himself approached by Ensign Kim. Could you teach me to play the organ? Kim asked.

I don't know, he admitted. 

Because it sounds impressive! Kim volunteered.

I think we would have to start with the piano, but I'll try, if you can teach me how to play the Clarinet? He challenged with a laugh. You never know when these little party tricks can come in handy! And so far I haven't learnt anything really useless aboard this ship and I'm getting lazy!

What is your opinion on the subject of marriage now? Is it truly worth the trouble He asked, turning to a nervous Seven of Nine as she approached.

"I love you. I wish to form a Collective with you! You will comply!" She declared, any thoughts of subtlety lost in the effort to control the unusual levels of nerves she was feeling.

A deathly hush fell over the gathering as the Colonel Samuels gripped his glass in shock until it smashed in his hand. Silently he turned and made for the door, blind to the questioning looks he was receiving.

Seven of Nine turned to follow, but was stopped by the hand of Samantha Wildman. "Let the Captain deal with it," she whispered, indicating Captain Janeway hot on the heels of the fleeing Colonel. "He'll be back. I did warn you about being too direct. You must have terrified him!"

"Well? What did you expect?" The Captain demanded, catching the Colonel up in the corridor, his head resting against the wall. "Seven is as determined as hell and has a hell of a lot of patience, but it isn't infinite!"

"I know, Ma'am," he stammered. "But I was so close!"

"Not close enough," she spat. "You would have bottled out again! So she's saved you the trouble. We all know you want to marry her and now she's left you in no doubt as to her intentions for you, so why not say Yes'?"

"Was I given the option?" He said quietly.

"She could have put it more romantically," the Captain agreed. "But she was being Seven of Nine, direct and to the point. It's one of the things you profess to find most appealing about her."

"Perhaps it's not as appealing as you thought? Perhaps it is just her body after all? Like every other man?" She challenged.

He glared at her savagely. "It is appealing and it frightens me," he snarled. "She is everything I thought unapproachable, calm, beautiful, devastatingly intelligent. Why trap a dumb soldier? There are better candidates all around her!"

"Because she has chosen you, because you love her. Given everything for her to try to make her happy, even when it hurt and made you uncomfortable. She has now made it as clear as you could possibly want that she loves you. She wants to try and do the same things for you as you have done for her. Is that so hard to accept?" the Captain argued.

"Yes, Ma'am!" He protested weakly.

"Look!" She explained forcefully. "Seven spent nearly twelve months studying love, before you came along. She gathered terra-quads of data on the subject. But in the end she rejected it, as not being something that interested, or had relevance to her. I had almost given up hope of Seven making that last step into humanity, feeling love and wanting to give it back. Then we pulled you off that Klingon ship and she expressed a desire to learn about you. She did and found that there were so many similarities that she could open up to you and you encouraged her. Then you looked after her in a way that was unique and could only work for her. You are not stupid, Colonel Samuels. You have 'Helped' her become what she is and you did it with all the love and devotion that you have in that huge heart of yours. Now Seven is prepared for that final step and it is you she wants to take it with. You can't turn your back on her, just because you are still scared about what happened after the first time you tried it!" 

The last remark rattled the Colonel in a way nothing else could and the Captain could see the pain in his eyes. It was true and they both knew it, but had been aimed well below the belt.

"Look. I want to see you both happy." she tried more gently. "You love Seven and she loves you. I can't see any reason for your reluctance to do what you want to do. This will make you both happy. You made this bed. It is time you relaxed in it and let Seven give some of what you gave, back. Just for once? For Her? If not for you?"

"Is that an order, Ma'am?" He asked quietly.

"The only order is coming from here, your heart!" She snapped, punching him in the chest, rather harder than she had intended, but it had the desired effect.

"Very well, Ma'am. If she will still have me I'll agree!" He announced stoutly, straightening up. "After you, Ma'am."

"Not on your life," she snapped. "I'm making sure you get there!"

He smiled wistfully and made for the Mess door again.

Entering he spied Seven of Nine still standing where he had left her, in the company of Samantha Wildman and B'Elanna Paris, he made straight for them and sank to one knee before her. Again the room descended into a deathly quiet.

"Miss Seven of Nine, Tertiary Adjunct to Unimatrix Zero-One," he started quietly. "I am a poor, stupid and humbled soldier, not worth a great deal in anybody's book. But if you still wish it to be, I would be the proudest man alive, if you will accept everything I have, to form our own Unimatrix together?" He pleaded, not daring to look up into her face.

"Now that's what I call romantic!" Samantha Wildman whispered to B'Elanna in the expectant silence that followed the Colonels plea.

Seven of Nine regarded him coolly. The Colonel's rapid exit from the room after her proposal had alarmed and confused her. She knew what she wanted and was almost certain that the Colonel wanted the same. All she had done was to make the situation clear. It had looked as if she had been wrong. If it had not been for Samantha Wildmans gentle assurances and firm hand on her arm, she would have given into the temptation to run after him and demand an explanation for his reluctance. Now the ensign had been proven correct, but his seeming acceptance was almost as alarming as him running away.

"Your proposal is acceptable," she pointed out. "I wish to care for you. You will submit. Your resistance will be futile."

"No resistance," he promised looking up at her, tears clearly showing on his cheeks. "I love you!"

"Will you accept the ring I made for the occasion?" He whispered, fishing in his breast pocket and extracting the ring he had placed there ready for when he was prepared to make his move. He held it out to her to examine. It flashed in the light as his hand trembled.

Gently she took it, examined it briefly then firmly slid it onto her finger. "It is attractive, and acceptable," she commented.

"It's a damned sight more than that!" B'Elanna scolded, breaking out of her breathless trance and grabbing Seven of Nine's hand to inspect the trinket. "It's gorgeous!"

Chakotay, the order of Service, the Captain demanded, recovering from her own shock. She had never expected the Colonel to go to such extremes to accept Seven of Nine's proposal. Tom, B'Elanna you'll act as witnesses. We'll do it now!

But Captain! The Colonel protested, standing up and holding Seven protectively. The bands. It's too soon. Can't we get used to this step?

Consider them read, she snapped. You have five minutes to get used to being engaged, before I marry you. My nerves won't stand another performance like that!

Colonel Samuels turned to his new fiancee. Will you accept what the Captain is proposing? he asked quietly. It is a big step for the both of us and I will object violently if you wish to wait? He offered.

I am prepared for the eventuality, she responded uncertainly.

I think we need to prepare you, B'Elanna whispered taking her by the arm and smiling encouragingly. Tom will make sure he doesn't runaway. She glared meaningfully at her new husband, who nodded and pulled the Colonel towards the bar.

Looks as though it's your big day to day as well, Huh? He offered sympathetically, handing the tall soldier the largest drink he could find behind the counter.

It rather looks like it, Lieutenant, The Colonel admitted pensively, swallowing the drink in one shot. I'm sorry, it looks as though I've unwittingly destroyed your big day. It really wasn't my intention. I was hoping to propose quietly after everybody left. I wasn't expecting Seven to drop her own bombshell like that or the Captain to suddenly go into overdrive! 

Hopefully he held out the glass for a refill.

You should go careful with this stuff, Tom suggested mildly, refilling it. I'm not sure what it is but it's powerful stuff, and you don't want to be drunk for your wedding.

B'Elanna doesn't seem too put out! He commented nodding towards B'Elanna and Samantha Wildman as they fused around Seven of Nine.

In fact, I'd say she's enjoying herself! He added brightly.

The Colonel agreed. But I've been well and truly suckered, haven't I?

Yes! But it is what you wanted, Tom pointed out.

Carry on, Lieutenant, the Colonel demanded, waving the glass again.

  
  


You're taking this very calmly, B'Elanna complained. You're supposed to be scared, worried about what's going to happen and I'm supposed to assure you that you are doing the right thing. Yet you're sitting there as cool as a cucumber!

On the contrary, I find I am suffering apprehension, Seven assured her quietly. However you are displaying sufficient apprehension for the both of us.

Samantha Wildman laughed. And they say on deck nine you don't have a sense of humour, Seven, she quipped. I'll tell them they're wrong!

What have we forgotten? She mused. There must be something!

I know, exclaimed B'Elanna exclaimed, reaching for her neck. Something new, something old, something borrowed, something blue. Help me with this necklace and the broach. Quickly the Captain is getting ready.

Samantha Wildman quickly helped B'Elanna out of the jewellery and pinned it to Seven of Nine, then thrust the wedding bouquet into her hands again before hauling her to her feet and escorting her to where the Captain was standing.

  
  


I think it's time we moved Colonel, Tom Paris whispered encouragingly to Colonel Samuels. Seven is stepping towards the Captain.

I suppose so, He sighed, straightening up. At the double Lieutenant, it would never do for the bride to arrive before the groom, he grinned and set off at a smart trot with the Lieutenant hard on his heels.

He slammed to a sharp halt and saluted the Captain, just as Seven arrived. I am ready, Ma'am. If Miss Nine wishes to proceed?

I will comply, Seven responded seemingly without emotion. She could feel her heart pounding despite her outward coolness.

Friends and family of Voyager, we witnessed a marriage earlier between two of our officers, she began. Now we will witness one between two more of our family, ones that have proved their worth to us and each other countless times since they joined us, after being lost in the Delta Quadrant. 

She paused for a moment before continuing. It is a match that means as much, possibly even more, to me personally than Tom and B'Elanna's because I had to watch and worry as they struggled. One because she didn't know what she was feeling, the other because he was terrified of the feelings he was suffering.

As we haven't had time to discuss the arrangements will you accept the standard wording? I don't suppose you have some rings? She whispered.

Yes, Ma'am! The Colonel responded with a shy grin. And I have my own pledge.

She nodded. Carry on, Colonel.

He turned towards Seven of Nine. I, Alan Samuels, do solemnly swear to take this woman, Seven of Nine, Tertiary Adjunct to Unimatrix Zero-One, as my lawfully wedded wife. Forsaking all others. To have and to hold, love, protect, honour and obey, through richer or poorer, in sickness and in health for as long as we both shall live. So help me God.

From his pocket he pulled two rings, handing one to B'Elanna, he continued. With this simple band I seal my pledge of love and devotion before my God and my peers, he announced taking Seven of Nine's hand and sliding it onto her ring finger to join the so recently fitted engagement ring.

Seven, do you wish to take the standard vow? The Captain asked hopefully.

No Captain, I will respond in kind, She responded tartly, then made her own vow in a crisp monotone, fighting her nerves down. 

I, Seven of Nine, do willingly join this man, Alan Samuels, as his Collective. Forsaking all others. To have and to hold, love, protect, honour and obey, through richer or poorer, sickness and health, for as long as we both shall live.

Taking the ring held out to her by B'Elanna, she slid it upon the Colonel's calloused finger. With this simple band, I seal my pledge of love and devotion, before the crew of Voyager.

The Captain sighed in relief before completing her final duty. As Captain of the USS Voyager, I pronounce you husband and wife! You may kiss the bride! She prompted turning away as the couple embraced to deafening cheers.

I thought he would have objected a lot more! She whispered to Chakotay as they moved away from the crowd.

Not a chance! Chakotay grinned. Seven agreed, you would have ordered him and he isn't too distressed.

They turned sharply again as another wild cheer rent the air, to see the Colonel easily sweep Seven of Nine up in his arms and carry her out the room.

B'Elanna Paris turned to Tom. You've got to match that! She teased. Until we're out the door at least.

I'll try, Tom promised gallantly, bending to comply.

Captain Janeway and Chakotay watched in amusement as yet another cheer broke out for Tom Paris as he staggered out the room with his bride.

What about you Kathryn? Suggested Chakotay gently. Are you ready to look for what they've found?

I don't know if I need to, she responded dreamily. The Colonel said that I felt for the crew as if they were my children. As usual he was right, especially with Seven. Love and marriage would be such an anticlimax for somebody with 140 children!

I think you would have to try it, to find out, Chakotay smiled encouragingly.

Perhaps I will, she agreed, then kissed her Second in Command. But you'll have to have Seven's patience to find out, she teased.

I've waited this long. I can wait, Chakotay assured her.

They were approached by Princess Madila as they talked. That is how you select a mate on your world? She demanded curiously. It looked like a trap!

No it isn't quite, the Captain confessed happily. But it was a trap. If you had been with and watched them as long as we have, then you would know why I sprang it. 

The biggest crime of all would be to let them suffer as an engaged couple, the Colonel would have been as stiff and as formal as ever, probably more so and Seven would have become ever more frustrated.

  
  


Mrs Seven of Nine, Primary Adjunct to Unimatrix Samuels, Colonel Samuels announced formally as he carried her into their quarters. You have orders?

None at present, Seven of Nine confessed, unsure what actions should come next.

In that case, permission to examine what I've paid so dearly for, Ma'am? he requested formally.

She considered the proposal carefully, this was a new twist to the Colonel's gentle teasing. He seemed to be volunteering. The duration and scope of this examination? She queried uncertainly.

Years, hopefully decades and very intimate, he grinned. I am very thorough!

You may proceed, she agreed cautiously.

Perhaps you should remove your belt and jacket, she added as he took hold of her in a passionate embrace.

You may remove anything you wish, he whispered, as he nibbled her ear, then kissed his way down her neck.

Feeling the fastening at the back of her neck ease, she responded in kind.

We will procreate! She demanded, pulling him towards the bed.

No, we will make love, he corrected her gently. Anything else that happens will be a happy bonus. Besides I'm allowed to tease you now!

I love you, Seven! He added as they sank to the bed.

I love you, Alan! She responded settling in his arms.

  
  


  
  


Revision 44

Preview

Seven of Nine finds that catching your man is only half a battle. Keeping him hurts more.

  
  


  


   [1]: mailto:story@rgower.plus.com



	9. Sharawonga (New 11/04/01)

**Sharawonga**

  


_Seven of Nine, B'Elanna, Tom and Colonel Samuels are given extended shore leave. Captain Janeway agrees to act as advisor to Princess Madila during the crucial peace talks on Sharwonga and finds friends, enemies, intrigue and danger..._

_Voyager and the characters aboard her (except the Colonel and additional characters) in this story are copyright of Paramount. No resemblance is intended to any person alive or dead._

_The story line and the Colonel are my own._

_Constructive criticism and comments are welcome on e-mail story@rgower.f9.co.uk ._

_If like me you like to know why things occur like they do, I would heartily recommend you start with the first story The Colonel_

_This story is rated PG13_

_©R Gower 2000_

  
  


After the tensions and excitement of marrying the Colonel and Seven of Nine the previous evening, Captain Janeway had spent most of the night agonising over the correctness of her actions.

One part of her screamed in rage and guilt that she had ultimately resorted to the course of action that General Fletcher and Anneka Holsen had used to force the Colonel to marry for the first time. Another pointed out that even though they had become engaged, the Colonel would still have tried to put the fateful day of the marriage off in the belief that Seven of Nine would find a partner better suited then he was. His faith in that scenario was one that nobody else shared, especially, she suspected, Seven of Nine. 

The Captain had seen people who were deeply in love, she even thought she had been once or twice. She had recognised Seven of Nine's Symptoms' nearly as soon as the crew had, and had watched in fascination as Seven had slid inexorably from mild interest, through coy disinterest and into total dedication, expecting to see them subside and disappear at any time, when she suddenly thought that she had discovered enough. Instead, perhaps exacerbated by Colonel Samuels own patience and gentle persuasion in getting her to tell him about her life, taking her painful memories as his own, helping her to accept them in his own unique way, those feelings had bloomed, unchecked and out of control, whilst she had struggled to understand them and their meaning. Another pang of guilt hit her, as she wondered if she could have explained them better to the normally dispassionate blonde.

Then there had been his strange chivalry, surrendering his quarters to her and sleeping wherever he could find space on the ship, unless she demanded his company, offering all the care, protection and comforting she wanted. But always fighting back the desires he must have been suffering from, afraid that they might hurt her. It must have loomed as a challenge to Seven in the end, she suddenly realised; to breakdown the defences she had cracked and he had built to protect her and others from himself. It had resulted in her blunt demand the day before as her determination and incredible patience had finally come to an end. She smiled at the idea, wondering if she would have had the same tenacity, if the Colonel had shown the same level of attention to her. Then frowned, as she realised that he had and still would if she needed or wanted it.

In the end her more analytical mind put it down to a command decision and tried to dismiss the thoughts. But they still troubled her and she made a point to check that Seven of Nine was satisfied with the new arrangement in the morning.

  
  


The morning seemed to arrive all too quickly as she was woken by the persistent bleeping of her intercom.

She snapped at it blearily.

Madila here Kathryn, came the cheerful singsong voice of the Princess Madila of Valoria. I will have to return to my ship today, Martha informs me we are no more than twelve hours from Saharwonga. But I would like to offer you breakfast before I prepare to leave you?

I'm having it transported from our own galley, all fresh food and properly prepared, she encouraged.

Despite herself the Captain felt her mouth water at the thought of non-replicated food and cheerful company as opposed to a hurried and solitary breakfast.

I'll be down in forty minutes, she drawled quickly accepting the invitation.

  
  


Thank you for agreeing to join me, Kathryn! The Princess sang happily as the Captain appeared forty five minutes later.

Thank you for inviting me, the Captain responded happily, starring at her desk cluttered in over twenty covered dishes of every shape and form in open fascination. 

Seeing the direction of the Captain's eyes the Princess laughed gaily. Please help yourself! She prompted. 

You eat like this every day! Exclaimed the Captain, examining the contents of the dishes suspiciously. They seemed to contain enough to feed an army, full of meat, vegetables, as well as fruit and juices of every kind imaginable. How do you keep so slim!

No I don't, Princess laughed. Usually I make do with some fruit. But today is going to be a long one so I thought I ought to eat properly, I wasn't sure what you would like and my Chefs got carried away.

Cautiously Captain Janeway tried something that looked like a lamb cutlet, then took another two as it dissolved in an explosion of flavour in her mouth. This is superb, she complemented filling a plate happily. I've never met anything like this. I'd be the size of a Star Ship if I was met with this every morning!

It does get a little dull after a while, Madila laughed as the Captain sat at the table with her.

I'm sorry about the standard of the food aboard the ship, the Captain apologised as she finished her piled plate in quick style. Neelix does his best and we have to be careful with the replicators.

Our replicator systems aren't as advanced as yours and we rarely travel far from our own planets, we can afford to use only the best fresh food, the Princess consoled. Besides, I found Mr Neelix's food quite refreshingly different! I've had our chef learn some of his recipes, especially the one for Hotpot!

That one is Colonel Samuels', the Captain remarked. It's one of his battlefield recipes, meat, vegetables, fruit and molasses. Easy to prepare and cook.

Perhaps you should make him the chef! the Princess giggled.

He likes Neelix's food, the Captain moaned. Besides he is more useful in other ways.

You rely on him a lot? Princess Madila asked gently.

Not especially, Captain Janeway excused. He cannot handle the technology aboard the ship properly, despite Seven of Nine's attempts to teach him. But he is a member of my crew with very special talents, strengths and weaknesses.

You're not being entirely honest, Kathryn, the Princess chided gently.

She continued more brightly. I'd like to thank you for the help you've supplied for the last few days. Martha tells me that the amount of information we've acquired has been phenomenal and that she has commanded for a number of my crew to be given regular medical checks.

I'm very sorry, the Captain stammered at the implied reasoning. We did try to protect your crew from ours!

The Princess laughed again. I'm not sorry at all. If they prove positive then they will be claimed heroines. If any of your crew wish to become Valorian, I promise they will be offered utmost respect and dignity, but I will only accept them if you agree? She offered mischieviously.

I will consider any requests, but I need my crew, the Captain agreed cautiously.

There will not be many, they are a very loyal crew, Princess Madila assured her.

I was hoping to ask you for one more service? She continued.

Oh! What's that?

We aren't experienced in negotiating with other races. I was hoping to ask you to be my aide during the negotiations, Kathryn? The Princess asked quietly. Martha is a valuable and wise guide, but she lacks the experience I think I will need there. Your advice will be invaluable.

I don't know how long we will stay on Sharawonga, or if we'll even stay at all, Captain Janeway commented guardedly.

It is a beautiful and safe place and I'll make sure you are recompensed with anything you and your ship requires, Madila encouraged. Please, Kathryn!

Captain Janeway felt her resolve slip to the gentle pleading, finally she agreed. I'll help you for as long as we stay in orbit. But we do have other places to go and the negotiations you are about to set about can take a long time, she warned.

  
  


Colonel Samuels woke as early as usual. He lay still for a moment trying decide where he was, whether he should be there in the presence of the beautiful and warm body that was pressed against him and why he didn't feel as guilty as he should. Gradually the previous days events came back to him. The shot gun wedding that he and Seven of Nine had accepted, the events of the previous night. He cringed as he remembered them and checked that the body was breathing. Then settled back with his arms around his new wife, waiting for her to wake naturally. Feeling a lot happier than he could remember being for a long time.

Seven of Nine woke disorientated an hour later. In alarm she tried to swing herself upright but felt herself hampered by a heavy arm across her waist, holding her down.

I don't think anybody expects to see us early the day after our wedding, a familiar deep voice said softly.

It is not early, it is 07:00, she protested in confusion. I must review the results of the long range scans, there are three power distribution nodes to examine on decks 9 and 11, plus I must inspect the Engineering records in the absence of Lieutenant Torres.

I suspect by the time we need the first, it will be out of date, the second is routine inspection and for the third you are now in the same position as Lieutenant Paris. Hopefully cuddling up to the man you love and foolishly married, Colonel Samuels pointed out, gently pulling her down again. 

Besides it needn't be for very long, he suggested kissing her gently. Just long enough to say Good Morning' and I love you'.

She tried to resist at first, then settled back onto the bed beside him, accepting the situation willingly. It is inefficient, she complained weakly, settling her head on his shoulder.

The Colonel agreed happily. But comfortable?

she admitted. However I am damaged. My body aches I will have to consult the Doctor and regenerate.

I'm very sorry about that! The Colonel apologised crestfallen. I tried to avoid hurting you, but I got carried away. I will try to control myself properly next time.

Apologies are accepted, she accepted readily. She recalled some of the events that had occurred. The overwhelming sensations that had hit her and had sent her spiralling out of control in a way that she had never experienced before, as he had finally surrendered himself to his passions and desires. Nor do I wish you to restrict yourself. It was pleasant, she added. 

From his pillow he looked at her in amusement. Seven, you are the most beautiful, patient and tolerant woman a man could ever wish for as a wife. But also one of the cruellest. I love you for it to the very last implant. He kissed her again

Your examination was completed and acceptable? She asked, unsure which answer she wanted from him.

Not complete, but very acceptable, he admitted happily. Except for one thing, he added. 

I think I may have as many Borg probes in me as you have. Just before you passed out your stringy things, Assimilation Probes', he corrected himself quickly at her raised eyebrow. Decided to play as well. They tried to assimilate me.

You should have seen the Doctor at once, she scolded harshly, as the shock over the fact that she had lost control of herself to the point where the Borg implants should be able to try to take control hit her.

And tell him that I can't make love to the only woman in the Galaxy I love because she tried to assimilate me. Not on your life! He protested hotly. Besides, as you don't seem to be laying beside a Borg drone, it looks as though I may be immune to them now and there is even a little justice in it, after all I was assimilating you! He grinned wickedly at the thought.

She smiled with him, accepting the concept and his teasing, then teased back. When do you wish to recommence your examination?

He asked hopefully.

That may be acceptable, she agreed happily. However I may wish to carry out a similar examination, she announced, kissing him quickly before rolling off the bed to stiffly approach the replicator.

He waited a moment watching her slim figure sway to the replicator, appreciative of her elegance, before rolling out of bed himself and heading for the bathroom and shower. 

He emerged some ten minutes later, towel around his waist, washed and feeling a lot fresher and started to assemble his uniform for the day. Noticing a button loose on his shirt he sat in an easy chair and commenced sewing it back on. Two minutes later he became aware of Seven of Nine standing over him, watching him quizzically, he looked up and smiled weakly.

Old habits die hard, he apologised. 

A missing button used to mean a day in the cookhouse, he explained rising to meet her and the mug she was proffering. Of course as the CO I had the services of a Batman when needed, but I always preferred dealing with things like this myself.

You should replicate a new one, she informed him, putting the cup on the table behind her and approaching him. Perhaps it would be a good place to commence changing your habits to suit your current situation?

He became ever more aware of her body closing on him and stood mesmerised as she wrapped cool arms around him crushing him closer. Snapping out of the trance he responded with a kiss as he felt himself respond lower down. She also sensed his changing mood and tugged the towel away from him, stepping back sharply as she did so and watched in amused detachment as he subsided again.

Perhaps I should commence my examination now? She taunted suggestively.

Perhaps you could, he agreed with a sly grin. But it will be the difference between being late for duty and not turning up at all.

she accepted reluctantly. I will postpone the examination until a later time.

It was his turn to approach, wrapping his arms around her from behind, stroking gently and nibbling her ear. You gave up too easily, he whispered, I wouldn't have lasted long.

She thrilled at the touch, but kept her voice steady. I know, I wish it to be a challenge. We should have breakfast.

I hope it won't be! He laughed and sat at the table she had prepared for them.

Which habits are you volunteering to give up? He teased as they finished.

I am uncertain, which would you suggest? She responded evenly.

I'll let you know, he offered. May I escort you to your station?

she agreed standing up and accepting his arm around her waist.

  
  


He left her to her duties in Astrometrics, parting with a gentle kiss and a shy grin as the doors closed behind him. Reluctantly she turned to her analysis.

It proved to be more difficult than she had expected, she couldn't concentrate on the figures that scrolled over the screen infront of her, continuously being replaced with visions of her cavorting the previous night and the anticipation of more to come. Irritated immensely that she had seemingly lost her much craved efficiency so totally she tried to concentrate harder and found it harder to make sense of the readings as the visions intensified.

She was grateful for the interruption an hour later as the Captain Janeway and Princess Madila entered laughing happily together.

I wasn't expecting to see you here today Seven? The Captain sounded surprised. You haven't fallen out already?

No, Captain! Seven of Nine assured her. I have duties to carry out.

You claimed that marriage would reduce the probability of me making error, you were in error, she continued quietly.

Oh! How so? Captain Janeway demanded gently.

I am finding it difficult to concentrate upon my duties correctly. It is frustrating, Seven complained, her brow creasing in puzzlement as the Captain laughed at her.

That is why you have a honeymoon after a marriage, Seven! She laughed. It allows you to get to know each other properly and for the worst of the urges subside. When they do then you will be every bit as efficient as before, but perhaps with more purpose. I'm surprised Alan didn't explain it to you, or even let you come to work!

I wished to complete my duties, he did advise that we weren't expected to be on time, Seven admitted uncertainly. Learning about each other, I thought I understood him yesterday. I was mistaken, his attitude is changing.

Nothing unpleasant I hope? The Captain demanded urgently.

Seven of Nine considered her response carefully before replying. He is more physical, but gentler. He claims he lost control when I thought that he may have caused damage to my systems.

If he is too much then I will have you out of the marriage as quickly as I carried it out! Captain Janeway declared in sudden concern. I don't want you hurt!

Seven of Nine smiled. I wish to investigate my experiences further. It promises to be a long and interesting experience. I intend to be thorough, she enthused.

Captain Janeway suddenly realising that Seven of Nine had been teasing her, laughed again. He's not the only one that has changed then. He always claimed you teased him mercilessly, now you're taking it out on me!

she added, I brought the Princess Madila up to explain how our long range Astrometrics suite works. But as you are here and understand it better than anybody else, perhaps I can leave Her Highness with you to explain?

I'll see you at lunch then, announced the Captain and left.

Your long range scanning systems are much more advanced than ours, Princess Madila announced.

Your race have too few resources to engage in long range exploration, Seven of Nine pointed out. Voyager developed this system because of a particular need. It is the combination of Borg and Star Fleet technologies that now allows us to make detailed scans over one hundred light years and plot a course over a complete Galaxy, she claimed then launched into a basic description of how her suite worked.

How did you fall in love? the Princess asked as her description came to an end.

The question floored Seven of Nine in mid flow and forced her to search for an answer. I am uncertain, she admitted at last. I was assimilated as a child, I have found my human emotions difficult to understand, there appears to be no logic in the processes.

But there must have been notable points! The Princess exclaimed.

Seven of Nine sighed. There were many, she agreed at last. When he joined the ship I found that his life had similarities to my own. He proved he was able to understand the feelings I was experiencing as a human. When I was stranded with him on our own, I found his company agreeable, I found I wished to be remain in his company. I found he needed protection and care, even though he appears not to be aware of those needs. I wish to protect him.

And he will let you now? The Princess asked innocently.

I am uncertain, Seven admitted cautiously. It will take time, but I will succeed.

  
  


Captain Janeway returned to the Bridge and settled reflectively into her chair next to Chakotay. 

I think I may have lit a major fire, she commented at his quizzical glance. 

She grinned at his continued questioning look. Between Seven and the Colonel. I'm not sure Seven knows what hit her, but she seems to want a lot more of it, she explained.

They'll settle down, Chakotay assured her. It hit the Colonel hard as well, he pointed out.

I keep forgetting him. I keep turning him upside down and inside out, but he keeps coming back for more, she admitted reflectively. Princess Madila accused me of not accepting how important he is to me at breakfast, I think she may be right.

The Colonel himself pointed out he has only limited usefulness to the general running of the ship.

I know, but when we get in serious trouble who do I leave to get us out of it! She exclaimed.

Captain, we are being hailed, Tuvok announced form his Tactical station, interrupting further discussion. It appears to be a Sharwongan Customs Vessel.

Put them on, she sighed, standing and straightening her uniform jacket self conciously.

This is Kathryn Janeway, Captain of the Federation Star Ship Voyager, she announced to the bland face of the robot that appeared on the screen.

This is Sharwonga Customs, a distinct nasal twang smote their ears. State your intentions?

Shore leave, She claimed firmly. We have been informed that Sharawonga is the place in the sector for time off!

You are not part of the convention?

I have been asked to act as an advisor to Princess Madila of Valoria. And she is aboard this ship, she admitted guardedly. But the prime reason for our being here is shore leave.

The Princess must rejoin her vessel, along with any other aides, their ship will be escorted to suitable orbit. Your vessel must be inspected for progressing further. The voice signed off as abruptly as it had started.

She shrugged, It looks as though you're Captain now, she announced to her grinning Commander. Make sure Neelix doesn't get carried away. And have the power relays on deck eleven overhauled, then they won't fail so often, she quickly rattled off a list of minor failings and crew that had to be watched over, to be stopped by Chakotay.

We'll deal with it, I'll even make sure Seven and the Colonel take a holiday. You go and enjoy yourself! He demanded cheerfully.

She grinned as well. I will, she agreed. But I'll deal with Seven and Colonel Samuels myself.

Besides he may give me something more to look for? She suggested, heading for the Turbo Lift.

  
  


She found Seven and the Colonel in the mess as she had expected, sharing a table with Tom and B'Elanna.

Before I spend a fortnight looking over Princess Madilas shoulder at her conference, I thought I'd ask your advice, Colonel? She announced, coming straight to the point.

The best advice I can give, is make sure I'm not within a hundred miles of the conference, Colonel Samuels pointed out happily.

You won't be, she declared. You and Seven are going on honeymoon, along with Tom and B'Elanna and at the Princesses expense. She laid a dozen PADDS on the table infront of them. These are their brochures, take your pick!

I don't think where you go for a honeymoon actually makes a lot of difference, the Colonel commented in amusement. The thing about honeymoons tends to be that you rarely notice your surroundings, whether it's soggy Manchester or sunny Bahli, you tend to make your own entertainment.

Where did you go? B'Elanna asked mischievously.

It was organised for me, like this one, the Colonel admitted. The Swedish ambassador sent us to Sweden for three weeks, ostensibly so Anneka could teach me what the Army failed to do, to ski. Perhaps even meet her parents! 

We failed in both aims. I can get down a snow slope okay, but not on the planks they bolted to my feet and her parents refused to see me even then, he added.

They didn't like you! The Captain exclaimed, in shock, the idea seemed preposterous to her. In her experience only mortal enemies disliked the Colonel, but even they respected him.

They didn't like what I was, the Colonel corrected her sadly. They refused to even meet me. It was the only thing Anneka and I ever argued about, whether she should turn her back on her parents or not, she wanted to and I didn't. I spent three days with the local Mountain Rescue team, picking up the pieces after an avalanche in the next valley, whilst she tried to pick up the pieces with her family.

Well that's those three out, Tom Paris announced happily, placing three PADDS aside. We're not taking you near snow and avalanches!

Any more advice for me Colonel? The Captain asked urgently as the others examined the PADDS that she had supplied.

Find out about the others there, their cultures and wars. They don't have to be the same, but they should be at least stable and trustworthy. Above all find out about the people who are really behind and organising this wonderful idea. True philanthropy is rare enough to be discounted, whoever they are they want something, and the deeper you have to dig the more they are going to want, he offered with a frown.

I'll do that, she promised. Now where do you want to go? She demanded.

  
  


They all gathered to see Princess Madila and the Captain depart two hours later. Remember their rules, no weapons or getting into trouble! She demanded as a parting shot, glaring at the Colonel.

Perhaps I shouldn't go, Ma'am? He grinned back.

If you don't, I'll come back and frog march you to the planet, she stormed, then laughed when she caught his mischievous grin. 

Voyager was guided to her allocated orbit high above the planet.

There must be more than six hundred ships here! Whistled Tom Paris from his seat at the helm.

Tuvok announced from his station. Including fifteen Felongran warships and four Cathor. I am still attempting to identify the others.

So I'm going to be unemployed again when I get back, the Colonel sighed wistfully.

I'll see if they are ready to rejoin their fleet, Chakotay agreed, referring to the Colonel's Marines.

The ship safe in it's orbit the two newly wed couples made their way to the shuttle bay, ready for their short trip to their holiday resort.

  
  


The Captain stood bewildered alongside the Princess and her aide Madila in the giant conference room, desperately attempting to identifying how many races were in attendance. There appeared to be over a thousand people there, delegates and aides. It dawned upon her that the task Colonel had recommended to her was impossible, it was difficult to decide the difference between races let alone individual people.

You had better stay with Madila, she whispered at last to Martha. I'll start trying to work out who is who!

It will not be easy, Martha hissed back. I do not recognise half of the people.

They had spent the hour between joining the yacht and joining orbit urgently discussing how to handle the conference. The Captain had been at particular pains to try to avoid alienating the aide over the Princesses insistence that she was likely to be better placed to guide her than Martha. She had finally accepted Martha's assurance that, she was of a similar opinion to her Mistress and even if she wasn't, she would need help. Now that the scale of the task was evident, she knew she was going to need even more help.

Captain Kathryn Janeway, I believe! A deep but pleasant voice sounded behind her. She span quickly to find herself confronted by a humanoid dressed in a purple habit, the cowl pulled well forward over his face so that only the shadows of his face showed.

I am, she agreed brightly. Who are you and how did you know who I was?

I am sorry, he intoned. I am Chancellor Guthorn of Cathor. I was informed of your presence by one of my guard ships. It appears you number two of our subjects amongst your crew and that we owe you a dept of gratitude.

He pulled back his cowl and she saw his craggy features, bushy white hair and beard and the red eye's for the first time. She also caught sight of the armour beneath the habit as well and the power sword on his belt.

You are a Knight? She accused. How did you get the weapon past Security?

I am a Knight, and the sword is part of our cultural costume, he confessed amiably. As for getting it past Security, they didn't see it and this a diplomatic function. Will you permit me to entertain you. I may be able to give you more of the answers you are looking for than you can trying to find them yourself? He suggested.

She felt herself warm to the tall humanoid and his openness, but hid it for a while. How do I know you haven't singled me out to prevent me from finding anything out? She demanded.

Unless you talk to somebody, you won't even begin to find out, he pointed out, unperturbed by her firmness. 

he continued with a grin. We are at the same degree of loss as you are as to who started this conference and the unlikely nature of the candidates. Whoever called it either does not know the people involved or has an unlikely amount of optimism!

I accept your offer, Captain Janeway agreed slowly. But you still haven't given me a reason for trusting you?

And you shouldn't, he agreed amiably, guiding her to a seat. Except we are, in my honest and modest opinion, the most powerful race here and have little to gain.

Then why are you here? She demanded, accepting a drink from a waiter as he passed by.

The same as you, to see who is really behind this great get together. If it is well founded we will join, if it isn't we must be prepared for anything that comes from it.

Scupper it, she corrected him seriously.

He laughed easily. It could come to that, he agreed. But it is unlikely we will need to.

You see those four over there by the table, he continued pointing to a group by a large counter. They are Cheinnes, Canines. They are sat opposite a party of six Felongrans. The only reason they aren't ripping at each others throats is because this is a neutral planet. It is almost impossible to think of any way that a satisfactory alliance can be formed between them. I wish we had the same degree of fortune as Princess Madila, in being able to bring somebody who has nothing to win or loose along as an advisor and can see more clearly because of it.

She stared at him steadily trying to see behind the amused red eyes of the knight, trying to decide if he was being honest with her. He stared back until her eyes watered and she broke off guiltily.

I am sorry, Captain, he apologised. But you seemed to be trying to read my thoughts. I don't think your telepathic powers are strong enough to do that!

She grinned back at him. I'm not telepathic at all, just stubborn. It was my fault! She admitted candidly.

I have a question for you, Captain. If you would favour me with an answer? He questioned calmly. It has nothing to do with this meeting, but perhaps everything to do with my seeking you out, he added quickly.

She nodded a cautious acceptance of the proposal.

My ship reported that the two Knights in your care have refused to return, until their combat training is completed. Why is that? I find it difficult to understand what they can learn. Knights of Cathor are not noted for being weak in combat.

It is a long story, she commented.

I have all night! He pointed out, waving a waiter towards them to order dinner for them both.

This Colonel must be a great knight! He announced respectfully, when she finished. You should have brought him as well. I could have tested him?

He doesn't think himself a diplomat and I've sent him on his own mission, to get to know his new wife, she grinned.

He seemed to think for a moment, then admitted. Much of your story has been relayed to me by my ships. I am happy that you are as honest as I have been told. I would like to ask for your help and assistance? 

She raised a questioning eyebrow at him, annoyed at being led on. 

Any information we find, we share? he offered. When we have completed here, we will escort your vessel to Cathor and carry out any repairs you require in our dry docks. We believe we can enhance your engines greatly, perhaps reducing your flight time by upto one half? He added to moisten her appetite.

What is the catch? She demanded suspiciously. I've learnt there is always a catch when people offer so much for so little!

He grinned again at her. Still suspicious, Captain? He commented. Yes, there is a price. First, I'm none too sure that this place is as safe as it appears, so there is a personal risk to you. The second is the crystals.

They're yours, we where intending to return them anyhow, she protested.

You misunderstand me, Captain. We don't want them back! In fact the further they are from us the happier we will be, he declared. If they are in this sector or quadrant, there is always a chance they could be stolen and used against us! If you and this Colonel' are everything I believe you are, then they will be safer with you than in our darkest vaults.

Captain Janeway considered the proposal carefully before drawling. Start sharing!

Together they sat in close consultation for most of the night.

  
  


In a room near the conference hall, three figures stood watching a monitor carefully.

What race is the woman with Chancellor Guthorn, Damassis? One asked sharply.

I believe she is a Terran, My Lord! A nervous voice announced.

It is not a local race, what is she doing here? Emperor Tsharack demanded.

She came with Princess Madila of Valoria. She has been announced as an official aide! Damassis explained hurriedly, watching the Emperors talons click with annoyance. We couldn't refuse.

If she finds out too much, you will make sure she disappears! And Guthorn as well. If you do it well the others may well take the offer we put forward.

But the Cathors will destroy us! Damassis pleaded in a rare fit of loyalty for his people. For forty years he had, as the notional Preident of Sharawonga, dealt with the Emperor of Dilhangra, timidly accepting the Protection' that was offered in exchange for technologies and other whims that the Lord Tsharack had demanded.

That would be unfortunate, Tsharack conceded coldly. But not an unacceptable price for bunglers. Perhaps you should make sure that the Terran was responsible?

The Dilhangra were an old and long lived race, with a gestation period measured in centuries and natural lives in eons they were comparatively few in number, occupying eight heavily shielded planets with a total population of less than forty million beings. The few races that knew of their existence believed them to be one of the oldest races in the galaxy and avoided them. Their long existence had not led to patience, but instead to boredom and a deep hatred of others. Seemingly deciding that lesser species were supplied for entertainment and food, they exterminated anything they did not like, which was effectively any creature that managed to stagger into space. Despite this they had no designs upon conquest, thus Lord Emperor Tsharack had tried a new tactic with Sharawonga a thousand years ago. They had simply threatened to destroy the civilisation out of hand, unless suitable bounty had been paid. That bounty had been in living beings for his entertainment and subsequent consumption. In return he had protected the planet, destroying whole fleets of invading space craft, this in its turn had given Sharawonga an enviable reputation for peace, unassailable strength and the riches that came with it. The downside for its inhabitants and unwitting visitors was that to maintain the constant trickle of lives that the Dilhangra demanded, the laws that they applied to their daily lives were strict and had only one penalty. It was a secret that Sharawongans hid in fear of their lives, literally. The success of this new tactic had led Tsharack to arrange this peace conference, in an attempt to extend the supply of sacrifices.

To describe him was as difficult as finding their home planets. Any species could identify a small part of their anatomy, given the chance to get close enough and live. From the talons on one set of his feet, as hard as diamonds, to the eight piercing blue eyes mounted on stalks above his armoured scalp, the spectacle was a nightmare of the worst proportions imaginable. Perhaps nature had used them as an experimental platform for evolution, testing every form of limb and skeletal structure it could devise. Unfortunately nature had forgotten to remove most of them when it had finished, leaving a creature with ten different sets of mismatched limbs and an exoskeleton that could stop most weapons.

  
  


Aboard Voyager, Commander Chakotay bade his final Cathorian guests good night as they had left. The meeting with the Dean Haldor of the Cathor Battleship and proved to be a rich and rewarding visit, he reflected, making his way back to the Bridge to fill the ships logs and take the nightly report from his Captain. Their initial caution and hostility had been overcome by the two Knights aboard Voyager and it had been replaced by surprise, then genuine curiosity and respect when they had refused to rejoin and gave their reasons.

Since Voyager had been the centre of attention for the Cathors and had received more than thirty visiting parties from them. All eager to learn about Voyager, its past and the strange new tactics that the two Knights were willingly describing and demonstrating on a holodeck. Not that it was entirely one way. Parties from Voyager had been despatched and generously entertained aboard Cathor ships, and they had also returned impressed by what they had seen and learnt.

Not an unproductive day! Chakotay commented to Tuvok as they awaited the Captains call.

responded the impassive Vulcan. We have gained much valuable data in our exchanges. We have navigation charts to cover the next two years of our journey, and have been given schematics to increase power efficiency by 10%.

Janeway to Voyager! The Captains voice sounded over the communicator, interrupting further discussion.

Chakotay here, Captain! Chakotay responded quickly.

Everything is going well? She demanded.

Tom, B'Elanna, Seven and the Colonel all left on time. I gave them a type 2, Chakotay reported. All the day parties have returned on schedule and we have had guests in the shape of the Cathors. How is your expedition going.

I've been entertained all evening by Chancellor Guthorn of Cathor, the Captain admitted. He seems genuine and friendly, I suspect he could even be a match for the Colonel in more ways than one! But he doesn't seem to know who is responsible for the talks. He does seem to know a lot of people who aren't though and wants help to find out who is! He's offered to overhaul the ship to get us home quicker.

They do seem to be overly generous, Chakotay agreed. Do we trust them?

I don't know. I'd like too, but we've been duped too often, I think they are a better bet than most of the others. Keep an eye on them, she decided.

Why did the Knights want to stay with us? She asked changing the subject.

They seem to believe the Colonel's training is superior to their knowledge and appear to be enjoying the experience, Tuvok announced. It also appeared to impress our visitors.

I think if I knew what I was to face from him I'd have run a mile, she commented thoughtfully. I'll report tomorrow morning.

  
  


The honeymooners disembarked the shuttle leant to them by Chakotay as personal transport whilst on shore leave. Tom and B'Elanna left quickly and happily, arm in arm to meet the security checkpoint before waiting for the Colonel and Seven to appear and share their transport to the hotel. Seven of Nine was also waiting, just outside the door of the shuttle as Colonel Samuels stared out wildly. He had never felt so naked or unprotected, being without his personal weaponry had seemed bad enough, but the Captain before she left, with the able assistance of Chakotay and Seven of Nine had demanded that he wore civilian clothing. It was something he rarely wore, partly because he had never been able to afford to buy it, but largely because he had never felt Off Duty', especially in a foreign land. In the end he had relented and Seven of Nine had spent an hour with him replicating clothing to his exact requirements. 

When he had seen it Chakotay had made a snort of amusement as the Colonel had paraded for his comments. He was now wearing a plain grey shirt, over a deep green cravat. Over the two went a Harris Tweed jacket and trousers, he was also carrying a simple Pork Pie' hat. It made him as distinctively old fashioned as his uniform did. 

I think the Captain had 'blending in' in mind! Chakotay had laughed. I don't think that will count!

I can go and put my uniform on again? The Colonel had offered hopefully.

He wished to use the same garments as his Undress' uniform without the insignia, Seven had apologised quickly. That was also inappropriate. This was the best I could do that proved acceptable.

I suppose it doesn't quite shout soldier, just odd! Chakotay accepted in the end.

Thus it was the Civilianised' Colonel that stepped off the shuttle, still scanning the surroundings nervously and cramming his hat down hard on his head.

What are those things? He demanded quietly, as he linked arms with Seven and nodding to three balls hovering above them at an altitude of about twenty feet.

Surveillance drones, Seven whispered back fiercely. You should have read the information supplied by the Captain as instructed!

I did! He protested. Or at least the first couple of thousand rules. But I didn't expect the monitoring to be as bad as this! He commented. I'm getting a distinct impression of what is permissible now. Well if they think they are going to spy on me all week, then they can think again!

To damage a drone is against their protocols, she pointed out.

The unhappy Colonel snorted and marched for the checkpoint. He spent another five unhappy minutes as he and his belongings underwent an intensive search.

What is this, Senor? The guard asked mildly, holding up the Colonels flute.

It is a flute, a musical instrument, you blow in it and make a noise, he snapped irritably. Grabbing the instrument from the guard, he put it to his mouth and played a short tune to demonstrate.

Is permissible, Senor! The guard conceded guardedly after checking his screen. We do not allow weapons only on Sharawonga.

Thank You! He hissed, slipping the instrument back in its usual place in his jacket he turned to watch Seven of Nines progress.

Their examination of her was as close as it had been of him and he tensed ready to swing into protective action, but was prevented by Tom and B'Elanna placing firm hands on his arms. 

She'll be alright! B'Elanna whispered gently.

Your implants, they are essential, Senoritta? The same guard demanded.

I would cease to function without them, Seven of Nine admitted honestly but cooly.

Is permissible, the guard agreed and allowed her through.

Together again they boarded the open transport provided and were whisked off to their destination.

I think you had better give him his uniform back, Seven! B'Elanna whispered. I've never seen him in that mood before, it's terrible!

He is uncomfortable, Seven pointed out. It will improve. I will talk to him!

I hope so. We're here to enjoy ourselves. At this rate he'll be in prison before tonight! Exclaimed B'Elanna hurriedly.

  
  


You will relax! Seven of Nine demanded of her new spouse as they were shown to their suite. You will be happy! Comply!

If that thing starts to peep through the curtains tonight, I will find out how many parts it becomes, he threatened pointing at another surveillance drone hovering outside the window of their thirtieth floor apartment. That will make me very happy!

You wish to spend the rest of your shore leave in prison? She asked with a raised eyebrow. You will not be able to continue your examination.

He smiled weakly. I'm sorry, I'm not particularly good company am I?

It's just that. Oh you know! He sighed wistfully. 

The number of times I haven't worn a uniform of some sort, you wouldn't need a full hand of fingers to count. I'm lost! He admitted. I don't think I've ever had to try to be a civilian before. What do I do?

She stared at him in surprise, the idea that he did not know how to be informal had never occurred to her before.

Perhaps you should be like you are normally, but use individuals Christian names? She suggested.

I'm not sure if I ever had one of those, he commented sadly.

Your I.D. Tags designate you as Alan Samuels, she responded neutrally.

Had to put something on them, he pointed out. Alan was one of General Fletchers father's names, Rufus Sebastian Alan. I didn't go a great bundle on the others.

And Samuels? She demanded in shock.

That at least is right, he admitted. I think.

She demanded.

He sighed deeply, this was going to be uncomfortable. I don't know all the facts, he started. But what I was told was, when, what I assume were, my parents died they were moving between postings. All of their papers were in the car with them and were pretty well destroyed. The only thing they found were my fathers dog tags. His name was Flight Lieutenant Frederick Samuels, but they never found out my real Christian name. They couldn't ask his crew because they were shot down a week later and they couldn't get the original birth certificate because the Registry was destroyed, after that I think they forgot.

You had other designations, in the orphanage? She asked desperately.

I did, He admitted. Oy You!' and Hey Kid!' stick in the mind, neither is exactly homely, the former usually resulted in a beating the latter in me giving a beating.

I'm sorry, he apologised again. But all this surveillance brings on some unhappy memories. I had hoped never to have to tell you that my history is shorter and flakier than my life. If you wish I will admit the deception to the Captain so that she may annul our marriage?

She stared at him incredulously. She knew that his early life had been desperate, it had been one of the things that had drawn her to him in the first place, believing he would understand her own loneliness. He had, intimately. Now it looked as if her loneliness was not even a drop of that he must have felt for long periods of his life, without even a proper name or designation.

In deep compassion she stepped forward and took him in her arms, wishing to comfort and protect him again, she realised. Others know of this? She whispered, kissing him by the ear.

Only you, He assured her, surrendering to her gentle attention.

Then you made it up. Comply! She demanded fiercely. You are my Collective.

I will comply! He mimicked her impassive voice.

He exclaimed as his mimicry was rewarded by a sharp bite to the neck.

He responded in kind, wrapping his arms around her firmly and whispering intently I love you!

We should go for dinner, she claimed softly, feeling herself start to melt to his touch again.

You're all I need, he whispered huskily, gently guiding her back towards the bed.

  
  


Your discussions with Chancellor Guthorn revealed information? Martha asked the following morning as she joined Captain Janeway at breakfast the following morning.

A lot of negatives, Janeway admitted calmly.

They are against the treaty?

No, I don't think they are. Curious as to who actually called it, she announced. The Chancellor gave me a brief rundown on all the seventy races here. There are three that make a living as mercenaries, thirty that have been or would be at war if they thought they could get the upper hand. More than a dozen that aren't strong enough to defend themselves, at least they have an obvious reason for being here, if not the clout to arrange it. Then there are races like the Felongrans and the Cathors and possibly yourselves, that are probably too powerful to need such an alliance, already have a raft of mutual co-operation treaties and would have to put more in than they could possibly get out of it! The only thing that seems sensible was to hold it here!

Perhaps everybody is tired of war? Suggested Princess Madila as she joined them. 

The Captain looked up in surprise, the Princess had foregone her traditional tight fitting body suit for, in her estimation, a far more sober ankle length but strapless gown.

The Princess caught her surprised stare. There are races here, that do not take kindly to female forms, others take too kindly, she advised with a wink. I do not wish to fail on my first real diplomatic mission by being undiplomatic.

I think it might be very diplomatic, the Captain conspired. I'd advise against getting close to anybody that is that interested that quickly. 

I'll listen to the opening speeches, then start doing the rounds of the aides and some of the support staff, she announced. The lower they are the easier they tend to be to talk to. She added getting up.

She hoped that somewhere in the speeches, somebody would let slip who had invited them to the conference, or possibly welcome the delegates to their conference. It was a hope that she found was dashed after nearly four hours of speeches of races expressing their delight at being present and their desires for the meeting to go well.

Disillusioned and realising that if anything was to decided it wasn't going to be on the Conference floor, she rose and left the room. Her actions were noted by several sets of eyes and a dark gangling figure rose to follow her, strutting after her awkwardly on what looked like legs not designed for the activity. This act in turn was also noted and a third short green cloaked figure followed in his turn.

Neither act was noticed by the Captain as she made her way from the Conference Room towards the cafeteria that had been designated for the refreshment of the delegates aides. She helped herself to a drink from the counter, tasting it carefully before taking it to a vacant table near the wall so that she could watch the aides working. It was not unlike coffee she reasoned, dark and bitter, but with a slightly metallic aftertaste, it would have to do, she told herself, most of the rest smelt offensive.

She had not sat for long before a short, and above all hairy figure approached her. You are Valorian? He barked at her without preamble.

No, I'm not, simply an advisor, she responded mildly, keeping her voice polite and trying to work out from where the voice was coming from, or it's eyes for that matter, lost as they were amongst it's hair. You are?

You will accept the treaty? It asked ignoring her question.

It's not for me to accept, she pointed out, not certain whether it had been a demand or a question. I haven't even seen anything that would masquerade as a proposal yet. Will you?

The people want protection! It announced and disappeared again.

Finishing the drink, she returned to the counter. Who are the short hairy ones? she asked the nervous waitress standing behind it.

I do not know Senorita, she responded respectfully. Captain Janeway sighed and turned back into the crowd. From one side of the room the dark figure continued to watch her progress, whilst noting that he was also being watched by the Cathor.

  
  


You were experimenting with Intimate Relations', Seven, B'Elanna Paris accused teasingly the following morning as Seven of Nine joined her at the breakfast table.

We were carrying out a scientific examination, Seven of Nine responded neutrally.

B'Elanna laughed at her bland reassurance. I hope you leave something for later, she giggled. I assume he is in a better mood this morning?

He has relaxed, Seven assured her as Colonel Samuels joined them.

Good morning, Mrs Paris! He boomed cheerfully, proving Sevens assertion. Those bloody cameras seem to have buggered off!

I don't think they needed them! B'Elanna giggled. The whole complex heard you!

Somebody had to drown you and Tom Paris out, he accepted the teasing happily.

So what are you going to do? She asked doggedly, feeling her face redden and changing the subject.

I thought Seven and I could disappear for a while, perhaps into the hills. They seem to lend out something like a motorcycle. If that is acceptable to my lady wife? He suggested looking at Seven hopefully.

Seven agreed. You will then be able to conduct their own research in peace, she added, heightening B'Elanna's blush.

A Security Officer approached the group at the table. 

Scusies, Senor? He stated nervously. Even as a civilian Colonel Samuels looked as if he could quite happily rip an unarmed man apart.

The Colonel looked around at him. Carry on old chap! He encouraged happily.

I must ask you to wear this, Senor? He quavered looking into the tall humans steel grey eyes and handing him a small red disc, attached to a velcro band.

What is it? He demanded curiously as he turned it over.

Is a security marker, the Officer explained. You attacked and damaged a surveillance drone last night, it shows you as a risk!

I didn't attack it! The Colonel protested. I simply covered it up when it came into my room, if it was damaged it was after I pushed it back out the window!

It was an attack, Senor. I must insist it is not done again! The guard disputed. A second incident would be most unfortunate!

The Colonel considered the disc and the Security Officer carefully for a moment. I apologise! He announced contritely. I will not cover one up again. May I keep it in my pocket?

It should be placed on the arm, the guard announced, backing away.

Seven, could you do what the gentleman wishes please? He asked. 

Perhaps I should have read the other sixty pages of rules, he moaned as she twisted to comply. But this place is starting to look like Switzerland. Gorgeous scenery, chocolate box houses, but the worst crime you can commit is blow your nose, just don't throw the tissue away. In the mean time across the hall they plot murder and intrigues to bring down whole governments!

They left an hour later, with Seven gripping the Colonel firmly around the waist as they raced off into the distance.

He is going to finish his honeymoon in prison, Tom Paris prophesied as they disappeared at breakneck speed.

Only if Seven can't control him, B'Elanna admitted. But we've got things to do, she added taking her husband by the arm and leading him away.

  
  


Captain Janeway spent her afternoon examining a draft proposal that had been issued to the delegates at her conference. She didn't like the basis of it and voiced her opinions to Martha who was sitting with her.

You would have to reduce your home fleet to a home defence force, no exploration or research ships or major ship production facilities. Your whole defence will rely upon a single battle fleet of unknown make up, that could be a sector away when you need it most, she described bitterly. You would be almost defenceless. Even exploration is to be carried out by somebody else!

It is a draft, Martha pointed out mildly. How does your Federation operate, perhaps we could use that as a counter proposal?

The Alpha Quadrant is generally a lot more peaceful than the Delta Quadrant, and it has taken hundreds of years to develop, she pointed out, then described the Federations make up and it's loose alliances with other powers.

Together they formed a more acceptable counter proposal for the draft that had been offered.

It did not receive an unwelcome proposal the following day when put forward by Princess Madila. The Captain found herself drawn forward to explain the system of each member of the alliance providing vessels and crews to suit their planets capacity that joined and intermingled to form unified fleets for exploration and defence. 

The only place the proposal did not go down well was in the control room, the grim despair was building as the conference seemed to warm to the idea.

The female must be withdrawn with discredit! Lord Tsharck seethed in annoyance. Damassis deal with it, she can join the next shipment.

Damassis bowed his acceptance of the Dilhangra's command and bobbed out the room quickly.

  
  


Your proposal seems remarkably equitable, Captain! Chancellor Guthorn remarked at dinner that night. Is it based on one you have experienced?

The Federation of Planets is similar, she confessed. But Martha and I modified it somewhat to cover the different circumstances here.

Well it is one that we could accept with very few modifications, the Chancellor complimented. 

But it has made you the object of observation by another quarter, he added in a whisper. There is a Mankron that is keeping an eye on you. I don't know why or if it will prove dangerous and I have detailed one of my guards to watch him, but you should be aware of the possibility.

What are Mankron? She whispered back.

he spat. They are not easy to spot, they can camouflage themselves to blend with their background if they need to, but are dangerous at all times. They are fast when they strike and well armoured. 

He pressed a small circular disc into her hand. For defence, but it might not be sufficient, he whispered.

  
  


Seven of Nine and Colonel Samuels stopped at another resort complex for the night. He had wanted to spend the night under the stars and perhaps relive a few experiences with his beautiful consort, until Seven had pointed out that it could score him another point on his crime sheet. That and the fact that the natives, whilst not unfriendly, were not especially welcoming. Even the children they had stopped to talk to seemed nervous at talking to the tall stranger with a red disc on his arm, had left him with little option but to follow her recommendation. 

This resort was possibly better than the one that Tom and B'Elanna had chosen for them, he decided. It lay in the foot hills of a large mountain range, a river passing through the lightly wooded complex, ending in a short series of rapids and a spectacular 30 foot waterfall. A large open veranda opened across the falls allowing spectacular views of the falls and the rapids that approached it.

The only downside of the arrangement was that this resort appeared to be populated by Felongran. They for their part ignored the two humans as they settled to dinner.

It was not until the following day that they were approached by two black furred Felongran, as they sat relaxing upon the veranda. 

I am Camathronan, this is my mate Desiree. You are from the vessel known as Voyager? The tall male announced calmly.

The Colonel stood to meet them and bowed. We are, he admitted gravely. May I introduce my wife Seven of Nine. I am Alan Samuels. Will you join us for a little while? I promise I'm not here to do any damage to anybody!

The two Felongran seemed to purr at the suggestion and sat themselves at the vacant chairs.

You are aware that the Emperor has decreed that your ship and crew is to be attacked on sight? Camathronan commented mildly.

We had guessed, the Colonel admitted. But, unless I miss my guess, you are from Sharla and aren't quite so pompous or hot headed? He suggested shrewdly. At least the one I've met face to face wasn't.

That was my brother Feroska, the Felongran admitted. He is safe?

And on his way to Valoria, the Colonel smiled. He will be given the opportunity to return if he wishes, after he has finished the task I set for him.

He was never a good fighter, Camathronan claimed. But a superb engineer.

And you? The Colonel probed.

I follow the Emperors commands, he responded faithfully. But perhaps not as mindlessly as some others.

I am glad of that, the Colonel agreed. We aren't after a war, we just want to go home. But sometimes we get drawn into things because we have our own rules that we try to follow. The racial extermination that was being conducted on the Elgron broke the rules. Did the other vessel escape?

No it didn't, the Felongran admitted after a moments hesitation. But there was no mass extermination, he added hurriedly at the irritation that flashed across the Colonels face. It was my squadron that captured it. The occupants now serve the Emperor.

That is nearly as bad, the Colonel pointed out. Personally I would never accept slavery, still others think differently.

Are those your children? he asked suddenly, pointing at two young black furred Felongrans playing on a tree that half lay over the stream that ran over the falls.

Our cubs, Desiree corrected him quickly. Yes, we are on a recreational break.

I'm sorry, Ma'am. I should have used the correct terminology, he apologised. But they appear to be playful things. Are they safe on that log? If they fall in the river I doubt they will get out again.

They are generally sure footed, but you may be right, they are getting a little boisterous, Desiree admitted. Perhaps I had better retrieve them, perhaps you would like to meet them? Gracefully she stood and walked towards her offspring.

What would you like us to tell you about us, so that we don't appear to be so threatening? The Colonel asked Camathronan gently. We could start by pointing out that we are a long way from home and we aren't crewed by warriors all armed to the teeth, intent on the destruction of the Felongran empire, he volunteered.

The Felongran purred at the easy information, but was prevented from speaking by a scream.

Your cubs have fallen in! Seven of Nine shouted springing up from her chair. She had watched the Felongran female walk towards her cubs and had witnessed the fateful event as it had occurred.

The Colonel leapt to his feet at her cry, seeking the bodies in the river. Quickly spotting them as they struggled whilst being drawn towards them by the river, he turned to Seven. I've got to do this! He apologised. 

Not waiting for her response he leapt over the rail of the Veranda and charged along the river bank, rapidly followed by Seven of Nine and Camathronan. Finding a spot where rocks came close to the bank he turned and started leaping from rock to rock, trying to get to the centre of the river before the two cubs over took him.

What is he doing? Screamed Desiree in alarm.

He will attempt to rescue your cubs, Seven of Nine responded calmly looking around for anything to help the Colonel from his predicament. It is his nature. Perhaps you should take that to your Emperor. 

Together they watched helplessly from the bank as he finally slipped into the water and jammed himself between two rocks ready to catch the cubs as they reached him. The first he quickly scooped up onto the rock he was holding. Sit still! He demanded of the quivering form, before lunging for the second as it rushed past at arms length. Thankfully he grabbed it by the scruff of the neck and slammed it onto another rock, then waited gasping for breath as water flowed all around him.

Assist me! Seven demanded, taking in the scene before her and spotting a long and heavy branch laying on the ground. We will use the branch to help them pull themselves to the bank. Alan Samuels will not be able to regain the bank without assistance.

Assist me! Quickly! She demanded again of the bystanders who were gathering and watching the scene dumbfounded and unmoving.

The two Felongrans shook themselves into action and with the assistance of another Felongran, they manhandled the branch over the rocks until it reached past the struggling human. It didn't seem to matter at the time that the twenty or so Sharawongan natives did not move to their aide as well.

Feeling the branch touch him on the back the Colonel grabbed it wildly and pulled trying to pull himself upright again, then found he could no longer reach the second cub who lay quivering and exhausted where he had thrown it.

Quickly he examined the first, it was alive, but barely conscious, certainly not up to caring for itself let alone its sibling he decided. "I'll come back for you!" He yelled at the second. 

Grabbing the all but unconscious cub and draping it around his neck, he started to make his slow and painful way back to shore again, using the branch to pull himself back as those on the bank struggled to hold it. For everybody it appeared to take a long time as he pulled himself back, one despairing arm reach after the other, until Felongran arms grabbed the cub from his neck, then himself and pulled both clear of the water.

He sat for a moment gasping for breath, daring himself to re-enter the torrent and return to pick up the second cub.

Seven knelt beside him, her arm wrapping around him protectively. "You are exhausted, you should rest," she demanded.

"There is still one out there, she won't be alive for long unless somebody goes back for her and I don't see many volunteers!" He gasped his protest. "Besides I promised and you wouldn't want me to break a promise!"

Sadly she accepted his insistence as he pushed himself of the bank and gripped the branch. "Secure the branch!" She demanded of the growing group around the rescued cub.

Colonel Samuels worked his away back along the branch through the fast flowing river towards the cub he had plucked from the river. He slipped, disappearing under the water to the gasps of heart stopping dismay from the watchers on the bank. He reappeared again, ten yards down stream, gripping another rock in the rapids.

Desperately Seven of Nine had the branch moved down stream for him to continue his mission. Then watched in terrified fascination as he continued his slow path.

Reaching the end of the support he was being provided with by the branch he found himself still five feet short of the rock that the cub sat mewing plaintively from and unable to make progress against the current. Backtracking a little he plunged towards an alternative rock, gripping it firmly before scrambling precariously on to the top. He balanced himself unsteadily on top as the water swirled around and over the rock, safe but a good ten feet short of where he needed to be.

"Are you still with me?" He called cheerfully to the terrified infant. "I said I'd come back for you, now give me a little wave, just to make it all worth it," he encouraged.

Warily the cub raised a paw towards him.

"I'm coming for you, just wait a moment and hold tight, there will be a bit of a splash," he continued in a cheerful vein, bracing himself. He sprang, leaping past the rock he was aiming for, then let the current drag him back until he hit his target, harder than he had intended but still safely with the infant.

He allowed himself a brief pause to regain his breath before trying to speak. "You need to grip me around the neck!" He shouted at the cub. "If you could avoid actually putting your claws in my neck, I would be grateful, in my jacket yes, but not the neck?"

Reluctantly it complied to his continued encouragement, gripping him tightly, before sliding into the water behind him and wrapping her legs around him, her claws digging into the material of his jacket.

"Comfortable?" He gasped as her grip tightened, then let go of the rock to be carried back towards the precious limb, trusting Seven of Nine was still controlling her party on the bank.

He gripped it gratefully as it seemed to rocket past him and pulled hard, it gave as he pulled. The impact of him hitting the branch and pulling so hard ripped the branch out of the hands of the party on the bank, they had relaxed as they had watched his struggle in the centre of the river. Seven of Nine dived after the retreating branch and gripped it firmly as three furry bodies piled after her. The branch secure again, the Colonel began to inch his way back. The cubs claws were starting to dig into his flesh harder as it struggled to stay on his back as the water swirled around and over them, it made every movement burning agony as they bit into the sinews of his neck.

It was an exhausted Colonel that arrived at the bank, the cub realising she could reach the bank scrambled up his back, then sprang for the bank and her mother, her rear claws catching him in the face as she did so. Involuntarily he grabbed at his face as the claws caught it, releasing his firm grip on the branch and he was borne away by the river. 

There was a gasp of horror from the bank as he floated out of control down the river, too tired to do more than grasp despairingly at another rock as he was bounced off it. They saw him make one more despairing grab for another rock, he held it for long enough for his body to twist around it, then he disappeared over the fall.

In sheer terror, Seven of Nine raced after him, the cool and calm of her exterior ripping into shreds as the focus of her feelings disappeared over the edge. Over the rail of the veranda she went, descending the stairs to the lower levels to examine the pool into which the Colonel must have landed in after he went over the edge. He was not there, she scanned the now mild river below the pool, expecting to see some signs of something floating. Still nothing.

"Where is he?" Camathronan demanded, joining her.

"I do not know!" Seven of Nine admitted, grabbing for the tricorder she was carrying on her belt. Activating it she found no trace of the Colonel's life signs, she shook it and reset it, not believing the results. It gave the same answers as before, the Colonel was not in the area.

Giving up on the machine she tried her communicator. Seven of Nine to Voyager. Respond! Her voice nearing panic.

Tuvoks calm voice answered her, it helped recover some of her composure.

The Colonel has disappeared! I require detailed surface scans, he may be dead! She demanded in near panic.

What has occurred? Tuvok queried calmly.

He saved two infant Felongrans from drowning then fell over a waterfall, Seven of Nines response was tart at Tuvoks delay. We have checked downstream but there are no results recorded on the tricorder, it may be defective.

Very well, I shall initiate an expanding search on your current position, wait, he advised.

Seven of Nine settled nervously into a chair at Tuvoks reassuring responses.

I am sorry! My people will scour the area as well, Camathronan tried to console her. But he may not have survived the fall!

She looked up at him dejectedly, fighting her emotions she whispered, When he joined Voyager he had defeated a Borg vessel in single handed combat. He has survived in conditions that are considered hostile to most life forms. I do not consider it possible that a 10 metre waterfall could kill him. 

But why would he risk his life to rescue an enemy? Camathronan asked desperately. We would not do the same!

You are not an enemy, Seven disputed. You have not offered hostility. Even if you had, he would still have gone to the aid of your cubs! The announcement broke the control she had struggled to maintain and she collapsed in tears.

Dumbfounded Camathronan struggled for some form of words to comfort the distraught woman, but could only place a reassuring paw on her shoulder.

The condition changed as Desiree reappeared in animated agitation herself. The cubs! She wailed. They have been taken!

Who by? Camathronan hissed.

The drones! The Sharawongan's claim they have broken the laws!

He demanded.

They say they bathed in an unlicensed place! Desiree mewed distractedly.

Seven of Nine sat up sharply, sniffing back her tears hard. Seven of Nine to Voyager! She hissed hurriedly.

Chakotay. We haven't found him yet!

A teleport has been activated in the last few minutes, Seven of Nine cut him short. You should scan for source, it is believed that the two infants that Colonel Samuels rescued were abducted. It is possible that the same occurred to him, she rushed hopefully.

  
  


Desperate for advice Chakotay contacted the Captain. His call found her at lunch with Chancellor Guthorn and Princess Madila. 

What ever the official results the conference might yield it was looking as though this would be one alliance that would come to fruition, she had decided happily as the two diplomats effectively charmed each other.

What's up? she queried mildly, a smile on her face.

We believe Colonel Samuels has been kidnapped! Chakotay's response removed the smile in one sentence.

She demanded quickly.

It seems that two Felongran cubs fell into a river, the Colonel went to their aid. We think he was beamed out by a surveillance drone, he explained. The two cubs were certainly taken by drones. Something to do with restricted waters.

The Sharwongans are very strict with their laws, Chancellor Guthorn mused to the Captain privately. But this appears to be genuine act of rescue, the drones should not have intervened. I think you ought to see Damassis, I will come with you.

She nodded uncertainly before responding to her second in command. Scan the planet for his life signs, she demanded, then more carefully. How is Seven taking it?

I don't know, you know how Seven hides her feelings and she is working hard at it, Chakotay informed her. She seems to be flitting from desperation to anger, but she seems certain he's alive. I've ordered Tom and B'Elanna to fetch her back to Voyager and have recalled the shore leave and visiting parties.

she agreed. I'll talk to the president and see if we can find him from here, keep an open channel.

She stood and turned for the door to find that Chancellor Guthorn and Priness Madila beside her before she had completed five steps. You don't have to come, she pointed out quietly. It could damage your chances of an alliance.

It seems to be what the alliance you were proposing was all about, the Princess sang. Supporting friends. We are friends.

Thank you, she stammered in reply.

As they left the room two more green cloaked Cathors joined them in close guard. 

Do we need them? she whispered to Guthorn. I don't intend to start a war, just find what has happened to my crewman.

They are my guard, he explained. They will not get in the way. Damassis's office will be that way, he pointed to the left and lead the party down a footpath to a small building.

Entering the building Guthorn pointed to a door, which they approached quietly. There seemed to be some form of discussion seemed to be occurring inside, but there was nobody outside to stop them eavesdropping.

The plans are set, Damassis? a throaty voice rumbled.

Yes, My Lord, came a higher whining voice. An altercation will be reported between the Terran woman and Guthorn, to explain their disappearance. It will implicate the Valorians as well. There will almost certainly be a war between the two and the others will look at anybody who claims they can protect them. Your agents have created an alliance with the Felongrans?

The party outside looked at each other in stunned amazement as the enormity of the plot struck them, then as one started for the door.

Janeway to Voyager. Emergency Transport five to beam out! Captain Janeway hissed at her communicator, as they left the building. We are in a trap!

We are out of range, Chakotay responded immediately.

My shuttle, quickly! Snapped Guthorn turning sharply.

Before they had moved a dozen steps two shadowy creatures sprang out from the bushes upon the Cathorn guards, felling them with a single swoop then turned for the rest of the party. Guthorn had his power sword in his hand and activated ready as the first one sprang at him. Impaling it in a single smooth movement. Captain Janeway pulled the small weapon Guthorn had given her out of a pocket, and pressed it as Guthorn had described, hoping it was the right way round and aimed at the second assassin. She missed, but it gave her the opportunity to bundle the Princess to the floor beside the two fallen guards as it dodged the weapons beam. She rolled to a sitting position and aimed again, but failed to get a shot in as two more figures sprang from the bushes on top of both her and the Princess. The last she saw was Guthorn being poleaxed by the figure she had fired at.

  
  


  
  


Revision 30


	10. Allies (Revised 25/04/01)

1-19 Allies

**1-19 Allies**

  


_Part two of 1-18 Sharawonga_

_With Colonel Samuels and Captain Janeway kidnapped, Voyager must attempt to search for them and their kidnappers. The danger increases, but they are given help from new sources..._

_Voyager and the characters aboard her (except the Colonel and additional characters) in this story are copyright of Paramount. No resemblance is intended to any person alive or dead._

_The story line and the Colonel are my own._

_Constructive criticism and comments are welcome on e-mail _story@rgower.f9.co.uk .

_If like me you like to know why things occur like they do, I would heartily recommend you start at chapter 1-01 Castaway. _

_This story is rated PG13_

_©R Gower 2000_

_Note- Somewhere down the line I lost a large part of the tail of the story. Now replaced- Sorry about that ray 25/3/01_

  


  


Aboard Voyager all was now in tumult as they struggled to get to grips with the situation. They had significantly failed to find the Colonel's life signs, they had lost all contact with the Captain and the remaining away team.

Contact the Valorians and the Cathors, see if they have contact with them! Chakotay demanded. Take us into a higher orbit and scan any ship that tries to leave. Prepare a security team we may need direct action.

Dean Haldor advises that they have lost contact with Chancellor Guthorn and his guards, Tuvok advised shortly. They are withdrawing the rest of their party for safety. They are demanding to know what has occurred. The Sharawonga are claiming that the Captain attacked him with the aid of the Princess Madila.

Tell them what we know, Chakotay responded. And the Valorians! Tell them I'm prepared to discuss the matter and that we need their help.

  


B'Elanna and Tom Paris arrived at the resort to pick up Seven of Nine some two hours after they got the call to collect her. They were surprised by the lack of staff in the building and the siege mentality that seemed to surround the complex. The Felongrans seemed to be watching the surrounds and a large number of surveillance drones with a keen interest. Tom Paris was quickly pressed into service as another lookout, but B'Elanna was led to Seven of Nine by a Felongran youngster. She was calmly examining a surveillance drone in the complex kitchen.

I'm sorry about Alan! B'Elanna volunteered as they entered the room. 

Lieutenant Paris, your sympathy is irrelevant. I wish your assistance! She demanded coldly, ignoring her consolation.

But you've just lost your husband! B'Elanna exclaimed in shock. He could be dead!

He is not dead, Seven of Nine snapped petulantly. He was abducted. I will find him and you will assist me!

What have you got? [B'Elanna][1] demanded cautiously moving forward.

It is the surveillance drone that abducted the Felongran infants. I intend to find where they were transported, she explained impatiently. I had the Felongrans capture it for examination. Assist me.

We should take it to the ship, B'Elanna pointed out bending to examine the device.

It seems unlikely that the drones outside will permit us to leave, two Felongrans have been attacked since the abduction, Seven pointed out. We will need to be beamed out or disable the drones observing the complex. The Felongrans have disabled three so far. The Sharawongans have fled. 

There is a dampening field built into the device, we won't be able to beam out either. I may be able to use that to allow us a site to site. Tom has a hand unit in his pocket, she announced after a couple of minutes. Is that the emitter for the transport? She pointed to a convex panel.

Correct. The technology is advanced, Seven admitted. I do not think it was developed on this planet. There was nothing like this in the centre of advanced technology Colonel Samuels and I visited.

She brought her tricorder closer to the panel B'Elanna had pointed out and the device it was attached to, making rapid adjustments as she did so. I have the co-ordinates of the receiver, she declared in victory, her voice rose in alarm as she translated them. They are aboard a vessel in orbit! We should leave immediately!

She turned to go then staggered as her tensions released.

Are you alright? B'Elanna asked gently, holding the Borg, knowing full well the way Seven of Nine could react if her emotions took hold of her.

My condition is acceptable for the time being, she responded stoutly, then added a shy Thank you.

We will get him back, B'Elanna assured her, still holding Seven and feeling her tense. But if you want to get emotional, now is the time to do it, whilst Tom is out of the room.

There will be an opportunity later, she breathed. We should find a means to deactivate the dampening field.

Seven of Nine to Voyager! She continued in a more ordered voice. There was no reply.

B'Elanna tried her communicator, with a similar result. So the drones block transmissions as well, she commented, turning once more to the drone on the bench.

I think we should try a random signal generator connected to the coil for the dampening field, B'Elanna suggested.

It would create an instability in the dampening field, Seven agreed. But if we amplified the signal through the transporter emitter, we may destabilise the drones as well, it will give the Felongran the opportunity to escape.

Sounds good, lets try it, B'Elanna agreed. We can use the tricorder to give the signals.

For fifteen minutes they worked on the drone, using any tools they could find, until the stood back their work completed.

I'll get Tom to round up the Felongrans, B'Elanna offered, patting Seven's arm as she steadied herself against the bench. Give me fifteen minutes.

Seven of Nine agreed quietly.

B'Elanna found Tom on the leisure complex roof with a number of Felongrans. We think we have a way out! She called. Gather everybody together we are leaving.

Fifteen minutes later they gathered in the complex forecourt with the modified drone. We don't know how long the jamming will last, or if it will work at all, B'Elanna warned the congregation. When we are out we don't stop until we get to our ships.

She nodded to Seven, who activated the jury rigged jammer. For a couple of minutes nothing seemed to happen, making them feel that the device wasn't going to work. Then the nearest drone seemed to spin and collapsed to the floor, rapidly followed by a second.

It's working, lets get going! Screamed B'Elanna, waving to the first driver.

The short trip to the landing site was eventful but safe. A number of drones approached the transport, but as they approached they lost control, but not before firing an energy beam towards them. Again their directional control seemed at kilt and the beams went wide, until they reached the shuttles.

The drones power cell has been exhausted, Seven announced simply as they stopped. We will have to run.

They did so, at full pelt as the drones came closer and started to use their weapons. Behind them they heard screams as the drones picked of several more Felongrans, but the Voyager crew themselves reached the shuttle safely and dived aboard.

Hold tight! Tom Paris called, scrambling into his seat. This is going to be bumpy!

Shields up, B'Elanna called as she took hers.

The Felongran shuttle does not have defensive systems, Seven pointed out from her sensors. We should assist them.

I'll try to escort them, Tom agreed. Target anything you can with the phasors but we won't get all of them.

It will be sufficient to gain their attention, Seven announced firing a short burst to destroy the first drone she could target.

The shuttle rocked as the drones started to target the shuttle in preference. Shields holding, B'Elanna called.

The shuttle rocked again as Seven targeted another drone. For twenty minutes they traded blows with them until a breathless Camathronan claimed that they had sufficient height to avoid the drones.

I thank you for your assistance, he continued. You are going to continue to look for Lieutenant Colonel Samuels, Mrs Samuels?

responded Seven of Nine determinedly.

You will look for my cubs as well? He asked hesitantly.

If they are with the Colonel, they will be saved and returned, she responded neutrally.

Thank you, he sighed with obvious relief. If we may be of assistance, then, His reply tapered off.

Call you? Seven finished for him.

You understand we cannot come to your aid directly, but we can perhaps just be in the right place, he offered weakly signing off.

You seem to be making friends as quick as the Colonel, Seven, commented Tom Paris from the pilots seat readjusting the frequencies to contact Voyager.

Paris to Voyager! We're coming home! He announced cheerfully.

was the simple reply.

  


Fifteen minutes later the shuttle docked aboard Voyager and it's occupants were rushed to the Conference Room, to be met by Chakotay, Tuvok, Martha and Dean Haldor.

Tell us what happened at your end? Chakotay demanded as they settled into chairs around the table. There appears to be a lot going on, but we don't know if they are linked by more than circumstances.

Quickly Seven of Nine complied, relating the story as she had witnessed it. This was followed by Chakotay offering his description of what had happened to the Captain and the members of her party at the conference.

You believe your Colonel and the two Felongran cubs were transported to a ship in orbit? Dean Haldor demanded as the two stories concluded.

There was no error in my calculations, Seven of Nine retorted.

And you believe the drones are not produced on Sharawonga?

The drones used unfamiliar technology. They were not built by any race known to the Borg, she snapped back.

That implies there is another race that we do not know about and they use Sharawonga for their purposes, it seems unlikely. Are you sure that you have not made an error? He disputed.

Seven of Nine bridled at the implied criticism. No error has been made, she assured him. The case was manufactured from a complex and advanced tri-silicate compound, a compound that is unique. The Borg have discovered artefacts of a similar construction in other parts of the quadrant, but have failed to replicate the material or find a race that can do so.

We have a very complicated picture appearing, the Dean acquiesced. On Sharawonga they are claiming that your Captain Janeway abducted the Chancellor, with the help of Princess Madila. That is as unlikely as it now appears preposterous, supported only by the fact that all three have disappeared, but there are some that will believe the story. In the mean time I have a missing Chancellor, no disrespect meant, but that is my prime objective to find, your own people are of secondary importance. The question lies in what happens next. I will call for reinforcements, but we need to find the ship that they are using as a receiver.

Tuvok, can we use the sensor logs and match them with the coordinates Seven has and trace the mystery ship? Chakotay asked quickly.

Possibly, but our records do not encompass the planet and the vessel may have moved, Tuvok admitted.

It's a start, Chakotay pointed out. Keep scanning for any ship that breaks orbit.

  


The Colonel woke slowly to the persistent shaking he was getting. Stop it, Seven. It's too early, he protested wearily as it stopped for a moment and he slid back to unconsciousness again.

The shaking started again. Mr Human, help us? A plaintive cry reached his ears this time and he became aware of an acute pain in his left shoulder. He tried to move his arm but it wouldn't, bent as it was behind him. 

He opened his eyes and found himself staring into a small worried looking black furred face, its eye's gleamed green in the dim light. Who are you? Where am I? He whispered groggily.

I'm Tidlara, the small face informed him seriously. We are in a cage! You saved us from the river.

Groggily he sat up and tried to remember what had happened. He remembered the cub scrabbling to the bank and loosing grip of the branch. But from there there was nothing. 

I remember you crawling over my face getting on the bank, but what happened then? He asked in bemusement.

I scratched you and you were washed over the waterfall, the cub informed him bluntly. The other human ran after you. We were taken from our mother by Sharawongan machines. 

Desperately he tried to make sense of what the cub was telling him, gather his senses together and tenderly examine his burning shoulder. Finally he commented, I think I've dislocated my arm. I don't suppose either you or your brother know how to put it back again?

She shook her head, confirming his worst suspicions.

In that case take the scarf from my neck. You'll have to make a sling, I'll tell you how. Then we can look and see if there is a sensible way out, he whispered as he jolted his arm and another bolt of pain hit him.

Quietly the two cubs bent to carry out his instructions, struggling with the knots as he described them before fitting it over his neck as gently as they could. As gentle as that was he still hissed in pain as he helped her move the arm into place. They sat with him as he allowed the pain to subside again to a dull ache. Quietly he started to sing, allowing his good arm to encircling them protectively and they relaxed leaning against them.

Three more recumbent figures materialised shortly afterwards. He pondered whether to investigate and how to disengage himself from the cubs without disturbing them, but relaxed a little as they seemed to stir. He recognised a groan from the general direction.

Good evening, Ma'am, he called quietly.

Captain Janeway sat up sharply at the familiar voice. Where are we and what are you doing here? She demanded quickly, struggling to see in the dim light.

I have no idea where we are, the Colonel answered honestly. For the second, I think I stepped on a crack in the pavement, it seems that is illegal on Sharawonga.

She smiled slightly at the response. At least you haven't lost your sense of humour, as misplaced as it is, she mused.

It's about all I have at the moment, Ma'am, He responded. I put my shoulder out.

Colonel Samuels, is that really you? Princess Madila trilled, sitting up beside the Captain.

Nobody else has claimed me, so I suppose it must be, Your Highness. Forgive me if I don't bow, but my small charges seem to be comfortable. 

Chancellor Guthorn was the last to sit up and take notice of the surroundings. The Captain quickly introduced them as they crawled to where the Colonel was sat. The two big men regarded each other carefully, each weighing the other up. Eventually the Colonel Samuels put out his good arm. It is a pleasure to meet you, Sir. I wish it was in better circumstances.

Guthorn flashed a smile at him. You are the famous Colonel who believes that we Knights can't fight! He laughed, warming to the direct approach.

No, Sir. I'm the infamous bastard who claims that the Knights don't know how to fight, he corrected him with a grin of his own.

Just as bad, the Chancellor admitted. But at least I can fix your arm, that is more than you can do.

Thank you, Sir. Captain could you take the cubs and the Princess away for a few minutes, whilst the Surgeon General here does his thing? He requested mildly. The last time my shoulder was put back my French' made even the bandsmen blush.

I didn't know you knew any foreign languages, she teased holding out her hands for the cubs to take.

I can swear in a good few and if not people get the gist, he assured her. Bloody hell! he gasped as Guthorn pulled the sling from his arm and straightened it.

Did that hurt? Guthorn asked sympathetically. I could render you unconscious.

No, Sir. I'm just ticklish! The Colonel snapped between gritted teeth. Try and put me out and you won't see another sunrise, bad arm or not. 

Chancellor Guthorn grinned, he had been impressed by Captain Janeway because of her honesty soon after talking to her, but this human was proving more impressive still. The arm, he knew, must be causing excruciating pain, but he was struggling to control it and remain civil. He pulled it upwards firmly, feeling the joint start to click into place, to the accompanying single expletive from his patient. Then twisted. There was an audible click as the limb reset itself.

Effing Hell! Hissed the Colonel. You effing bastard, you could have found a more painful way! I ought to knock your block off! He swore giving vent to the pain as he nursed the shoulder, tenderly working the arm.

Not as tough as you make out, Colonel? The Chancellor smiled at him. Perhaps I should train you to become a Knight and overcome pain?

Try me? The Colonel hissed, still in considerable discomfort.

You will have an opportunity to demonstrate with others, the Chancellor pointed out gently, holding out a helping hand for the Colonel to stand.

In a mild show of defiance he ignored it and staggered to his feet without assistance, then let the room spin around him until it decided which way was up. 

In the absence of brandy and cigars, perhaps we should rejoin the ladies, he quipped unsteadily.

Chancellor Guthorn roared with laughter and slapped him hard on the back, sending the Colonel staggering towards the rest of the party.

Okay what do we do now? Captain Janeway demanded as the two warriors rejoined them. She was concerned at the way the Colonel was still nursing his arm, it boded ill for their future if they had to fight. Whilst Chancellor Guthorn would be a major force, she doubted that he would be able to take on everything they may find.

What are we actually facing? The Colonel asked. Apart from what I have been told has happened to me, I don't know anything. As there aren't many waterfalls here I assume I will have to face something else?

Quietly Captain Janeway explained the circumstances of her arrival and the creatures that had assaulted her party.

Bug like, long springy legs, ability to blend with their surroundings and jump prodigious distances. Sound a little like a Praying Mantis on Earth, he mused. 

They looked at him hard.

I'm sorry, he apologised. I still find it easier to compare things against what I know and I used to watch them on Earth, sometimes at very close range. Apart from size and prey the only difference so far is they Mankrons don't suck your insides out!

They do that as well, Guthorn admitted apprehensively. But they don't use weapons as such, but this isn't a Mankron ship!

Thanks, Sir. That puts me at ease. Do we have any weapons I suspect they may object if I try to step on one? He asked. Somebody demanded I left my uniform behind so all I've got is my pocket knife. He glared meaningfully at the Captain, who blushed.

You weren't supposed to finish your honeymoon in prison, she rallied gallantly.

The first time in hundreds of years I put civvies on I end up in the clink, he muttered.

I lost the weapon Chancellor Guthorn gave me, she admitted.

It could not be helped, Guthorn consoled. I lost my sword, that is almost unforgivable.

Princess Madila nervously spoke up. I picked up a sword! She volunteered, shyly reaching into the bust of her dress and pulling out a Cathor power sword. The two men watched in fascination as she did so.

I picked it up when Kathryn pushed me to the ground, she explained, blushing furiously at the interest displayed. It seemed like a sensible place to put it.

I'm sorry, Your Highness! The Colonel apologised, recovering quickly. We couldn't help it. However if you would give it to the Chancellor, perhaps he will feel better dressed.

I suppose we ought to find something for me, he commented slipping out of his jacket and without a word started to pull the facing off before extracting a length of wire with a loop on either end.

What is it? Princess Madila asked in curiosity, trying to examine the wire.

It's a wire saw, Your Highness. It was the only thing I managed to get past Seven, he confessed. You can use it as a snare, garrotte or in this case a simple saw. I'm hoping I can saw a lump from the bars. 

So we can escape? The Captain suggested hopefully.

If necessary, but it would take too long to cut out enough for us to get past, especially when there is a perfectly serviceable door. I just want something to hit people with, he admitted.

We also need to try and contact somebody from outside, he continued quickly. Getting past the door is easy, finding somewhere to go afterwards isn't. I've tried to sense Seven but the implant isn't powerful enough. Could we boost the signal somehow, Ma'am?

Captain Janeway thought for a moment. A may be able to boost it with the communicator, she said uncertainly. But Borg electronics aren't my strong point and I could destroy it. What can you tell Seven? Will you be able to receive anything?

I can tell her that I love her, but I don't honestly expect a reply, it isn't sensitive enough to pick up much, she will probably not notice it until she checks her alcove logs, the Colonel admitted. I'll have to leave the rest to her. If we need more power then I'm sure the Chancellor will allow us to tap it from his sword.

She nodded thoughtfully. I'll try, but if it stops working or I kill you, don't blame me.

He handed her his pocket knife as a means of reply and bowed his head to give her access to the neural implant in his neck. Carefully she set to work on it and her comms badge.

  


There was no vessel at the co-ordinates you specified, Tuvok complained to Seven after they had cross-linked her tricorder with Voyagers sensors.

The ship was cloaked, she snapped petulantly. I am not in error!

Such devices are not permitted in Sharawongan space, the Vulcan pointed out, unperturbed by the Borgs display of irritation. There are no physical signs of any vessels residual emissions.

The average gaseous residuals are 1.8% lower than the surroundings, she pointed out, still irritable. That suggests that there was a vessel occupying the space.

That is an illogical assumption! Tuvok protested. If there had been a vessel there and it has moved the results would have been higher.

She stiffened suddenly. My cranial implants are receiving data, she whispered breathlessly. It is weak but not Borg coding. I believe it may be Alan Samuels!

Scan sub-space for the signal! Chakotay roared at Tuvok and Kim who leapt from their seats like scolded cats and ran for the Bridge.

Is there anything you can translate? he continued to Seven more gently.

The signal is too weak, she complained. Normally he cannot transmit more than a few tens of metres. For the signal to exist at all suggests that he has made modifications. I may be able to decipher more from my alcove.

Chakotay nodded. Do it! He insisted. If he has boosted the signal he has had help and the only person who could offer that sort of help is the Captain.

  


Did it work? Captain Janeway demanded breathlessly, leaning over her makeshift signal booster.

I don't know! The Colonel croaked hoarsely. He had spent the previous fifteen minutes in deep concentration as the Captain had adjusted and boosted the signal at his insistence to the absolute limits of what was safe and beyond the design specifics of the small neural implant. She guessed that there had been nearly 100 watts of power running through the small implant, enough to send a sub-space signal halfway across the sector and more than enough to kill the person that it was attached to.

I can't put anymore through it, she claimed as she sat beside him. We'll cook it if I do, and probably electrocute you into the bargain! What now?

We try again in say thirty minutes, he responded flatly. If only I knew if she received the message.

In the mean time I think I will examine the lock, he commented, getting up and approaching the cell door.

His heart leapt as he investigated it. I don't suppose one of you ladies has such a thing as a metal hair pin amidst your hair do's? The door lock appears to be mechanical, so I can spring it with a picklock, he called. The only downside appears to be that it is alarmed.

He smiled at their dumbfounded expressions, Chancellor Guthorn had spent several frustrating minutes trying to melt his way through it with his power sword without success. I spent a lot of time with criminals, he admitted.

  


Seven of Nine studied her cranial logs carefully. She was certain that the co-ordinates that she had supplied were correct, despite Tuvoks assurances otherwise. She was also certain about the faint signal she had received. She caught her breath, there had been an unidentified signal amidst the fine clutter that her sub-space implant picked up. Quickly she tried to decode it. It was a simple code she realised, simple binary signals. Suddenly she realised what it was, a primitive earth transmission protocol, Morse. It was all the proof she needed, nobody would use a signalling code as simple as that. She decoded it anyhow, hoping for something positive to take to the Commander. The deciphered message made her smile weakly with it's simple and repeated message, I love you it read repeatedly.

She hit her communicator. Seven of Nine to Chakotay. I have identified the message I received. It is from the Colonel, she claimed proudly.

We have not been able to trace the source, Chakotay announced. Does he say anything?

She thought briefly, considering whether to offer the simple message, but decided against it. Nothing as to location, she responded mildly. However he will probably repeat the signal shortly and on a regular basis, we will be able to detect it then.

Seven of Nine was proved correct in her assumption, a second signal was detected less than five minutes after she had reported her findings.

Got it! Ensign Kim shouted in his excitement. Bearing 240.36.

I'm on it Commander, Tom Paris announced from his seat. But there is nothing on sensors.

Chakotay turned desperately to the Security Officer.

A polaron burst may highlight the vessel, he suggested. But it may cause damage to other vessels in the vicinity.

The signal is moving! Kim interjected.

Tom follow it, Chakotay commanded. Tuvok when you have a clear shot try a Polaron burst if that fails then an antimatter vent. Advise the Cathors and Valorians what we are doing. Bring the ship to Battle Stations.

Phasors are powered, torpedo tubes are loaded, Shields fully powered and locked to rotating frequency. A Sharawongan Customs Vessel is approaching. They are demanding that we power down and place ourselves under their control, Tuvok announced calmly.

Tell them we intend them no harm, but they should leave the area, Chakotay snapped. We will fire upon them if they try to stop us.

They are repeating their demands, Commander, Tuvok responded a moment later. Six vessels are moving to intercept. They appear to be Felongran.

Target their propulsion systems, but don't fire unless they do so.

The leader of the Felongran vessels wishes to speak to Seven of Nine, they have taken station between us and the Customs vessel, Tuvok announced in mild surprise, two minutes later.

Chakotay turned first to the Security Officer then to Seven in his surprise. He asked in confusion.

She nodded and stepped forward, hands behind her back. I believe it may be Camathronan, she announced nodding to Tuvok.

The black furred Felongran commander appeared on the screen. You haven't forgotten what you promised? He asked hurriedly.

No. We will return your offspring when we find them, she agreed.

He purred his appreciation. We will escort you past the Customs Vessels. But if you go into warp we will not be able to keep up and attack you, he announced. There is another squadron in the sector that will be a danger. My crews and I owe you much but they have families, we cannot protect you from other Felongrans, he added quickly.

If we use warp we will not be able to trace the Colonels signals, She pointed out.

A few seconds would be enough, the Felongran suggested.

We shall comply, Seven agreed calmly as his face disappeared.

She turned to face the Commander, who was watching her in amusement. Camathronan is the parent of the two cubs the Colonel attempted to save, she explained. The Felongran warships have been ordered to attack on sight, he does not wish to. We should do as he requests.

He nodded. Tom prepare for warp, ten seconds at warp eight should do, he suggested. Engage after the next signal. Seven try and find a way to communicate with the Colonel!

Gently they proceeded as the Felongrans argued with Sharawongan customs. Behind them seven more ships formed upon them, two Cathor Battleships and their escorts and the Valorian Royal Yacht.

We seem to be building quite a fleet, Tom Paris commented from his station.

  


The size of the fleet that was seemingly following Voyager was causing concern to Lord Tscharack. The three races involved were not behaving as he had predicted or wished, there were even signs that many at the conference were not believing the story that Damassis had given that the Valorian Princess and the Earth woman had killed the Cathor Chancellor. Obviously the situation was not helped by the fact that the ships involved were even now forming into what looked like a classic battle formation with the Earth ship at it's prow, he realised. It puzzled him that the ships seemed to be following his own vessel, he could find no logical explanation for it. Dilhangra ships never showed themselves in normal space, but existed in a temporal field on their own, undetectable until too late. Even the Felongran attack formation was behaving erratically, not placing itself to intercept the departing Earth ship, but instead, it seemed to be covering their departure. It left him with serious concerns over the level of co-operation he would receive from the Felongrans as well. He flushed red in his growing anger. Perhaps he would have to take a more obvious role in the conference, if it wasn't to slip from what passed as his fingers.

he snapped. What is the comparative combat capabilities of the Cathor/Valorian fleet that the Earth vessel is leading?

The two battleships are amongst the most powerful in our known galaxy, My Lord, Damassis admitted. The Valorian yacht is rumoured to be the strongest. Voyager, so Customs reports, has the equivalent offensive capabilities of a destroyer and the defensive abilities of a cruiser. The battleships each carry sixty attack fighters and the Valorian probably another twelve. It is a major combat fleet.

I will address the delegates, Tsharack announced. It is clear that you are incapable of creating the correct conditions, you are no longer required.

But My Lord we are your obedient servants, Damassis pleaded in panic. You cannot leave us now, after so long. We will be destroyed.

Lord Tsharack regarded him coldly. Your race has served us for a mere pin prick in time, there will be others, he snapped and turned for the Conference room.

Damassis wrung his hands in despair as the dark figure of the Emperor left. He knew what was likely to happen to his planet if the Dilhangra left it, if they decided not to destroy it for themselves. He had even been to one of Lord Tsharacks entertainment's and had witnessed the brutal massacre that occurred as captives from many races were ripped to shreds. He had left with the distinct impression that a similar fate would befall him if he upset the Dilhangra. Idly he speculated whether the Valorians and Cathors would be willing to offer protection, if they beat the threat they were sailing towards. Of course they would need to be able to detect the Dilhangra and he knew how, he realised.

Lord Tsharack stood on the conference dais, his tall and ugly form commanding immediate attention from those gathered around it.

Life forms! He called imperiously gaining immediate silence. I am Lord Tsharack, Lord High Emperor of the Dilhangra.

A murmur set off around the room, they knew what the Dilhangra were by childhood legend. But they were just that, legend, were they not? 

He continued regardless. Your pathetic races know of us by your legends. I know of all of you because I have watched you evolve and I detest you and I could destroy you all, just as I am about to destroy the Valorian and Cathor fleet that is forming beyond Sharawonga, He hissed.

A mutter of alarm now swept the conference. 

he continued. I am prepared to offer a deal. For a modest fee of five thousand life forms from each of your planets, delivered alive to me. I am prepared to forego the pleasure of destroying your pathetic races as I have with Sharawonga for a thousand years. You have until the Cathors have been destroyed to agree.

He stepped off the dais and stalked out as the conference descended into uproar.

  


Martha, aboard the Valorian yacht, regarded the proposal that reached her with suspicion. She did not have the science facilities to test the snatch of technological formula that had been presented as a taster for validity, nor, considering the events that had occurred, did she trust the source of the message. However they had been following the limited signals that Voyager was picking up for nearly four hours with little result.

The Earth ship had repeatedly tried various tricks to persuade the ghost ship they were trailing to show itself, starting from clever Polaron bursts to the more desperate detonation of precious torpedoes all with no effect. That had been prophesied by the message that she was reviewing, but what it was proposing did not seem possible. The name Dilhangra' was not lost on her, but rather than help her decision, it hindered they didn't exist anymore. She put the name out of her mind.

Finally she turned to the signaller that waited patiently for her command.

Transmit the message to Voyager and the Cathors, she announced. 

She paused for a moment considering the next decision carefully. Answer Damassis, we will offer what protection we can, provided the information he supplies is accurate and adequate. Inform the others of that decision as well. She desperately hoped that the decision was the right one.

Chakotay found himself as cynical over the motives for the offer as Martha had been, but managed to hide his feelings as he laid the skimpy details out for B'Elanna, Seven and Tuvok.

The schematics are incomplete, Tuvok complained. A large amount of development work will be required to set such a detection system into operation.

We should get the rest of the information shortly, Chakotay pointed out. And we aren't getting anywhere with what we are trying so far!

Have you found anyway of replying to the Colonel's messages?

We have tried responding on the same carrier as he is using, but he is not responding, Seven of Nine claimed. He needs to concentrate hard to operate the implant. It is probable that he is unable to concentrate sufficiently to receive the communication.

The signals we are receiving from the Colonel are becoming erratic, that suggests that they may be in danger, we need to try something else. I'll start building this circuitry, but I need to know what I need to fit it to in short order, B'Elanna agreed. 

Seven, I'll need some help? She added to the ex-Borg, who seemed to be lost in deep thought.

There was a similar circuit in the drone I dismantled, she announced straightening up. We can deduce much of the additional components from my tricorder readings.

  


Life for the Captain and her party was becoming as dangerous as B'Elanna had surmised. The Colonel with some help from Chancellor Guthorn had managed to spring the lock of the cage they were in and had then proceeded to investigate the dimly lit hold they were in.

They found they were not the only life forms there. A second cage held ten Sharawongan natives. They cowered back from the two men as they approached. 

I'm going to let you out, the Colonel had announced quietly, working the lock.

The Dilhangra will kill us! They pleaded pitifully.

The Colonel looked at Chancellor Guthorn quizzically, before responding patiently. Who ever that is, they'll probably kill you anyhow!

He entered the cage and tried to inspect the captives, but they pulled away from him. He gave up and left the cage, leaving the door open.

Who are the Dilhangra, Sir! He asked the Chancellor who was standing in puzzled thought.

They are a fairy story to frighten children, a legend, they don't exist! He responded uncertainly.

The Colonel sighed. The problem with fairy stories and legends is there tends to be a grain of truth in them, Sir, He commented as the cage door clanged shut behind him. Certainly those people think they exist, they aren't simply scared they are terrified to the point of paralysis. Perhaps you should tell me about your fairies?

The Chancellor nodded. You need to try your link first. He led him back to the rest of the party.

The Dilhangra, the Chancellor started his story twenty minutes later after the Colonel's attempt to broadcast to Seven of Nine. Were rumoured to be one of the oldest, most advanced and long lived races in the Galaxy. Apart from a few artifacts found in space that can't be placed with any known civilisation, there is no proof that they ever existed, so it was thought that they had simply become extinct as younger races out evolved them. Even the legends are thousands of years old, they don't give a simple description of them at all, simply parts of anatomy that could be anything. There is no mention of special powers, or callousness, simply a loathing for other life.

Then why did they join up with Sharawonga? The Captain asked pointedly.

the Colonel suggested. After all you don't have to like a cow to eat it, and that is about all those poor bastards over there are fit for! He waved in the direction of the Sharawongan prisoners.

So how do we fight them? He asked.

I do not know, the Chancellor admitted. The legends suggest that we don't, they do not include happy endings.

We had better go and ask them then, Colonel Samuels announced getting up again.

How is your arm? Captain Janeway asked carefully. Can you fight if you have to?

It will ease when I get swinging, the Colonel dismissed the sentiment, though his shoulder still hurt grievously when he moved it.

I will take care of him, Captain, Guthorn whispered. But he is a proud and strong man, he doesn't want to look weak in front of anyone!

You've caught on quickly, the Captain whispered back fiercely.

We are not unlike each other, Guthorn commented smiling sadly. His arm is hurting badly, but he is ignoring it because he feels he needs to, not just for you but himself as well. He left following the Colonel's progress towards the hatch at the far end of the bay.

There could be a guard on the other side of the door, Colonel Samuels, Guthorn cautioned as they approached the heavy hatch.

It's a possibility, he admitted calmly.

They could shoot before asking questions, Guthorn pointed out.

That is also possible, but unlikely, the Colonel commented. You said the Mankrons don't use weapons.

I don't know what the Dilhangra use.

The Colonel studied the door carefully before replying. If they are going to use weapons, they will fire at where they expect somebody to be after the door opens, about four feet above the floor. There is a pelmet above the door, could you perch on it?

The Chancellor looked up at where the Colonel was pointing and saw a narrow ledge no more than 18 inches wide. he admitted. But where will you be?

Persuading them to come in, the Colonel responded cryptically. Whoever can get a good blow in gets first crack?

Chancellor Guthorn nodded in anticipation and swung himself athletically up onto the narrow ledge. Gaining his balance he watched in mild amusement and baited breath as the Colonel operated the obvious door mechanisim then collapsed on the floor in front of it as it swung open over him. Despite the seemingly sprawling and random collapse, it did not escape his attention that he had fallen so that he could see through the door.

Nothing happened and he was about to swing down, until he saw the small signal the Colonel was making. There was something outside, so he waited.

A shadow fell over the body as something tall and black entered hesitantly, scanning the surrounds for danger. It failed to notice the Cathor balanced upon the ledge behind him as it turned its attention to the stricken Colonel. A probe appeared and prodded its victim cautiously. It didn't move. The Mafron moved closer and prodded harder, still the Colonel made no movement. 

On his ledge Guthorn marvelled at the Colonel's acting, but wondered when he would have to act himself to prevent the Mankron finishing the job.

The Mankron knelt beside the fallen body and extended a proboscis towards the unconcious figure, which suddenly burst into action. The left arm came up and grabbed the tube, holding it firmly as the right suddenly appeared wielding the metal bar that had been hidden behind it and crashed it into the creatures right eye, simultaneously screaming. Suck my guts out would you, you bastard!

The creature screamed wildly and lashed out with hardened forearms, trying to impale the creature that had been its prey. On his ledge the Chancellor stop transfixed by the sudden burst of action from the human.

Any time you like, Sir! The Colonel called, slamming the arms away with the metal bar, then returning with another swing aimed for the creatures remaining multifaceted eye, as he rolled away desperately.

The call brought the Chancellor from his torpor and he leapt for the creatures back, swinging his power sword to severe the creatures head as the Colonel charged in with an upward swing that combined with the slice from the sword to send the head skittering away.

The headless creature collapsed, the Chancellor still on its back. He rolled away as it hit the floor and sat for a moment stunned by the whole spectacle as the Colonel collapsed beside him. Finally he stood and bowed to the human in renewed respect.

Where did you learn to fight like that? He demanded.

The Colonel grinned slyly. In the gutters on Saturday nights after the pubs closed. If they think you are dead people let their guard down and you can steal anything!

He looked at the bent metal bar he had been using. I don't suppose I could get you to cut one of it's arms off? He asked offhandedly. I don't think it's worth trying to straighten the bar!

Guthorn smiled grimly and examined the creature. It's not a sword, it's hard enough, but there is no edge, he commented, setting himself to the grim task.

The point always beats the edge, Sir, The Colonel responded neutrally, flexing his left shoulder carefully.

How is it? The Chancellor inquired in concern as he handed the Colonel his new makeshift weapon.

Hurts like hell, Sir! He responded cheerfully, examining the weapon. It was about two feet long and feather light, He pondered out loud.

The Chancellor shook his head. I think it is a type of hair, he admitted. But it will be strong enough as a stabbing tool in most circumstances.

Now what? Captain Janeway demanded as she brought the rest up. She had watched the spectacle nervously from the cage door, but now it seemed safe she could stand the suspense no longer.

We find out where we are, how many more of those buggers there are and deal with them, the Colonel announced firmly, getting up and heading for the door.

The Captain reached to stop him, but was stopped herself by Princess Madila. He'll be alright, she assured her. He can't stop himself now.

The two warriors crept down the passage way, unsure of where they were going. The Chancellor stopped at a door. There are more Mankrons in here, he whispered.

Can your sword weld it shut like Marine Gwyndals? The Colonel responded quickly, examining the metal door carefully.

It will take time and there could be another way out, Guthorn protested.

On the other hand I don't think we could take on more than one at a time, the Colonel argued. It needed both of us to deal with the one in the hold and it didn't know we were coming. I'll keep a look out.

Guthorn nodded and adjusted his weapon to allow him to weld, shading his eyes with one hand as the white hot torch started to melt the door and frame.

  


These plans are incomplete, Seven announced coldly when the remainder of the information Damassis had promised was presented to her.

The signal from Sharawonga was interrupted, Chakotay explained. Martha thinks he was discovered because the signal simply stopped.

How do they compare to the plans you have of the drone?

she answered. It requires more power, but the concept is similar. It produces a Protonic cloud in temporal space. It will temporarily collapse the temporal shields they are using.

How long will temporary be? He demanded

I have calculated not more than three minutes, she answered again. There are other dangers.

Go on, he prompted morbidly.

The cloud must envelope the Dilhangran vessel, it must therefore be activated within a thousand metres for it to work. Shields and transporters will not work in the cloud. Lieutenant Paris is building the units to suit a class four probe.

How do we get them out then? He demanded.

A shuttle could approach the vessel, the limited details we have suggest a weakness in the weapons system, they are incapable of tracking a target as small as a class two shuttle. There will be a small delay between the cloud dispersing and the temporal shielding becoming effective for a transport beam, provided the shuttle is close enough.

I'll get Tom to prepare the shuttle, Chakotay decided after a moments hesitation. He can take the Cathors.

You will require Lieutenant Paris to control this ship, Seven protested. I will pilot the shuttle.

He looked at her sharply, noticing the tell tale signs of strain and determination in her eyes. He nodded his agreement. Just don't get hurt, if you do my life will be very short when the Colonel gets hold of me, he sighed.

He turned to Tuvok. Explain what we are going to do to the Cathors, he decreed. Seven will need covering fire to get a shuttle in, poor targeting or not, and they have the fire power.

Thirty minutes later they watched the first of four hastily configured probes shoot out into the blackness, heading for the next point they hoped the Colonel's signal would come from. Five minutes later the shuttle bearing Seven of Nine and the two marines also departed heading for the same area. She wanted to be a close as possible to reduce the time required to get close to the Dilhangran ship and avoid the possible consequences if the data supplied was inaccurate. The shuttles departure was followed by another set of probes, in case of failure.

The Colonel's signal did come, fifteen minutes late, but the Dilhangran was in the position they had predicted. Tuvok, detonate the nearest probes, Chakotay ordered quickly.

They watched the screen expectantly as the probes flashed and a shadowy ship flickered into existence. It was accompanied by a shout from Ensign Kim at his station. 

A Cathor destroyer has just disintegrated, he shouted.

Tuvok the other probes, detonate them, Chakotay demanded in alarm, a horrible suspicion forming in his mind.

His suspicions were confirmed as the last two probes from the batch detonated, revealing another four ships.

Target power systems, they must not be allowed to cloak, he yelled. Everything we've got.

He slammed his hand onto his communicator. B'Elanna we need more probes, how soon?

Just putting another set together, she responded calmly. 

There appears to be a major battle fleet out here, he snapped, watching the view screen as the Cathor ships veered sharply and open fire with their own armaments as another destroyer disolved in front of them. From below Voyager the Valorian yacht shot into view also firing its weapons. He suddenly realised that it looked different, much of the smooth outer skin seemed to have been discarded leaving a dark and horribly beweaponed warship. He had never thought of it as a warship, he reflected for a moment.

Commander, Dean Haldor of Cathor is calling, Tuvok announced his voice still calm amidst the excitement.

He nodded hurriedly and indicated the view screen. The chiselled and bearded face of the Cathor commander appeared. Commander Chakotay, he snapped without pleasantries. You must keep your ship safe, we need you to supply as many of the detection devices as possible, more vessels are on their way. I have detailed ten fighters to your defence, withdraw and keep me supplied, he demanded then disappeared, leaving the scene of battle on the screen again.

From the two battleships a cloud of small vessels emerged, a small section of which broke off and headed towards Voyager, the rest turned purposefully and plunged towards the Dilhangran fleet. A smaller fleet appeared from the Valorian ship and turned for the battle as well as the ship shuddered under the impact of an unknown weapon, but it kept up it's impressive fire rate. To their right a battleship seemed to shudder hard then split in two, the front half bloomed into a white hot fireball, but incredibly the rear continued to fight. Not everything was going against the allies a Dilhangran vessel suddenly blossomed into fire and exploded.

Commander the second wave of probes has reached the area. I have ordered them to spread out, Tuvok announced. Another set is ready for launch.

Do it! Chakotay demanded, still watching the scene before him in fascination.

Another two Dilhangran vessels appeared as the probes flared again. A Cathor destroyer, finding itself in close proximity to one turned hard and drove itself into its foe, still firing determindly at it as both vessels dissolved.

Sickened Chakotay turned away as another Dilhangran ship rolled away, struck by a concentrated attack from a squadron of Cathor fighters. Tom pull us back, he demanded. We can't compete here!

The Valorian ship has lost engines, Kim screamed.

Chakotay turned back to the screan. Belay the last order, take us to the Valorians. Prepare to extend shields and lock on a tractor beam. Tuvok anything that gets in the way, blast it!

With the skill of a born pilot Tom Paris snaked Voyager towards the target.

I have a tractor beam lock! Kim shouted in excitement, as Voyager rocked from an impact.

They are using Temporal weapons, Tuvok announced. Shields down to 60%, they will not stand another impact.

Pull us out of here, Chakotay demanded quickly.

Two Dilhangrans have recloaked, Kim called.

Light them!

The two ships that had managed to rebuild their protective shields were exposed again. The first was immediately set upon by another wave of Cathor fighters. The second by the remaining battleship.

Where is Seven? Chakotay demanded as Voyager struggled out of the affray another temporal beaming striking it and sending a groan through the ships fabric.

Shields have collapsed, Kim screamed.

Warp power is down, Paris inserted in frustration.

  


Exactly where Seven of Nine was, was a question that was disturbing Seven of Nine as well. She knew where she was physically, but it was not a position she wanted to be in.

The mission had started well, the shuttle had been within 8,000 metres of the Dihangran ship when it had materialised. But from there things, whilst not going wrong, were not going well as full scale war broke out around the delicate shuttle. Weapons fire seemingly passing her small vessel within inches in a continuous rain of death as the Cathors struggled to combat the Dilhangran fleet.

Trusting that they weren't deliberately targeting the shuttle, but not daring to deploy evasive techniques in case she flew into fire, she increased power and maintained a steady course towards her objective. Nor did she dare to deploy the shuttles own phasors, hoping the the Dilhangrans would ignore her small vessel if they thought it was not a threat compared to the far more active and larger vessels surrounding them. A belief that was ostensibly correct, but didn't take into account the Dilhangrans locking a tractor beam onto the shuttle and pulling it aboard, leaving the small party watching helplessly until it landed with a thump.

She watched in detached fascination as the Colonels two Marines leapt out of the ship as the door opened and immediately started to scan the surrounds of the empty bay they had landed in, for any source of danger, just as he had taught them to do.

Finding none they started to explore further afield, each covering the others movements with their phasor rifles.

Finally happy they were alone for the moment at least, Marine Gwyndal reported back. "There's nobody here, Ma'am. But we will have visitors sooner or later."

"Secure the access door," she demanded quickly, venturing towards a terminal by the wall. "I will endeavour to trace our crew members."

She turned her attention to the console. Not waiting to try and interpret the symbols she attempted to access it directly with her assimilation probes and was flung back as an Electro Motive Pulse arced through them. She sat stunned as Gwyndal raced towards her.

Are you hurt? He demanded quickly, kneeling beside her.

I am dizzy, she admitted weakly. Assist me, I must find another way to approach the computer system.

  


The Colonel standing beside Chancellor Guthorn trying to despatch another signal to Voyager felt the pulse of power arcing into Seven of Nine's systems. His eyes snapped open as he did so.

Mrs Samuels is in trouble and aboard this ship, he hissed quietly. Follow me, we'll pick the others up as we pass.

You know where she is? Guthorn asked quietly.

Not this way at least, the Colonel said simply and started to trot down the corridor the way they had come.

Where are we going? Captain Janeway demanded as he chivied them onwards down the long corridor.

He claims his wife is aboard, Guthorn whispered. I think he sensed something a few minutes ago and he is worried.

He waved them to a quiet halt a few moments later as he peered around a corner carefully, laying on the floor to avoid being spotted. A glance was all he needed before he slithered back and led them a distance back the way they had come.

There are four more Mankrons outside a door, he whispered. We can't take them on as we are. But I think they are guarding a hold and I'm certain Mrs Samuels is inside. They certainly don't seem to be taking chances, but they are watching the door not the corridor.

So what do we do? Princess Madila asked the question first.

I could try and distract them long enough for you to get in? Guthorn suggested.

There is something else with them a really big bastard who seems to be in charge, the Colonel hissed. I don't think you would get more than two to follow and that would be beyond us as well.

He puzzled at the impasse for a few moments. Finally he looked up. Voyager is full of big ventilation ducts, he commented. None of them are protected. I wonder if it is the case on this tub?

You're suggesting we crawl into the hold through what could be very small pipes? The Captain suggested uneasily.

He nodded. I could move a company through Voyager's without being spotted. This thing is a least the same size, so imagine that the ducts will be similar. There is a grill above us, so I think we will start there.

Somebody will have to pick me up, the Captain agreed reluctantly, looking at the Chancellor.

He handed his sword to the Colonel and stooped to lift the Captain to the ventilation grill. The hatch released with an audible clang and they looked around nervously. It still appeared safe.

Quickly, get up there, the Colonel demanded.

Guthorn taking his instructions literally, pushed the Captain hard, propelling her through the hatch, rapidly followed as her legs scrabbled inside by the Princess and the two infants, then he turned to the Colonel.

One of us will have to stay behind, he pointed out. The hatch is too high for us to pull the other up.

Then you had better go, Sir, the Colonel responded immediately, returning the sword.

I cannot do that, the Chancellor snapped in a scarcely controlled whisper. You won't last two minutes if they find you.

Nor would you, Sir, the Colonel responded respectfully. You have a race of people to look after I only have one and I doubt she will want me when this is over. Besides, they have to find me first.

Guthorn nodded, seemingly accepting the argument. As the Colonel bent to offer his support so that he could climb up, he struck him firmly with the hilt of his sword, catching him before he could fall.

Captain Janeway, he called. I need help pushing this young fool into the duct!

She peered through the opening and rapidly appraised the situation. He volunteered to stay behind didn't he? she sighed in resignation.

The Chancellor nodded.

He'll be as cross as hell when he recovers, she commented, reaching down to help support the unconscious figure as Guthorn pushed hard. With the Princesses help she struggled to pull him in and close the hatch. 

Carefully the two women pulled the dazed figure after them as the two Felongrans, benefiting from the feline instincts, led the way through the unlit passages.

The Chancellor meanwhile crept back down the corridor towards the hold.

  


Seven of Nine removed yet another panel from the wall in the hold and scanned the circuitry it hid seeking some method of interrogating the ships systems, then stepped back sharply as the panel beside her clanged then fell away to reveal an exhausted Captain Janeway. She stepped forward with equal alacrity to help her from the passage with a barely concealed cry of relief.

Seven, help us out, the Captain demanded as she staggered forward. The Colonel is unconscious.

How was he damaged? Seven demanded quickly.

Chancellor Guthorn knocked him cold when he demanded to stay behind so that we could escape, the Captain explained hurriedly. He'll be alright in a few minutes. But there are several Mankrons outside and possibly a Dilhangran.

Mankron, species 11278. Formidable combatants, but they do not operate in units of more than two, Seven insisted, recounting from her Borg database.

Borg data is inaccurate. They do here! The Captain snapped. Who else have you got? And how did you get here?

I have brought the Cathor Marines, Seven of Nine responded neutrally. I have a shuttle but I am unable to find a means of disabling the tractor beams. The bays computer terminal is unusable.

Anything else? The Captain demanded heavily.

The Cathor fleet, with assistance from Voyager and the Valorian yacht, is engaged in open hostilities with several Dilhangran vessels. I am uncertain as to the state of battle, however two Cathor ships have been destroyed, Seven started to explain, until a groan signified the Colonel was recovering his senses.

Immediately she knelt beside him as his eyes blinked open.

Where is that bastard Guthorn. I'm going to knock his blasted block off when we get out of here! He hissed in a daze.

You will not carry out that action, Seven scolded him. You are damaged, you would not survive.

Nor will he if they spot him, he protested, struggling to sit up. I at least have had years of experience hiding!

She silenced further protests by kissing him firmly, pushing him back to the floor as she did so. 

Perhaps I won't, he admitted softly as they broke apart. Thank you for reminding me what I'd miss.

I suppose we had better go and get him though, he continued. I don't suppose you have brought something for me to play with?

She walked away and returned a few minutes later struggling with the Colonels pack.

Mrs Samuels, you are the perfect wife! He announced happily as he inspected his weapons and slipped into his combat fatigues. I feel better already!

Ladies and Gentlemen I think we will go and negotiate for the return of Chancellor Guthorn, he announced to his the group in general. But we will have to do it the hard way. It's what I've been training you for, but it won't be as easy as the holodecks. In a moment or two I will open the doors of the hold, at the last count there were four Mankrons and what I assume is a Dilhangran outside. When the door opens, you will commence firing at anything that moves. Do not fire blindly in the right direction, aim your fire and make sure you hit what you are aiming at, he briefed them as he had his own men so many years ago now, he realised suddenly, it brought a small smile to his face.

When they retreat from the door, Captain Janeway, Mrs Samuels and Her Royal Highness Princess Madila will remain here and secure the shuttle bay. Marines will advance with me in Light fashion, you will avoid fighting at close quarters if at all possible. Our objective is the safe recovery of Chancellor Guthorn, alive or dead. On completion we will fall back in similar style. The mass destruction of life aboard this vessel is not an objective. Do you understand me? He demanded.

Sir, Yes Sir! The Marines shouted back immediately.

Let's get on with it then, he snapped at them.

Carefully he operated the mechanism and leapt back as the heavy door started to roll back to take his position on the firing line. It opened to reveal two of the Mankrons and the Dilhangra standing in front of it. They swung, immediately, as if to pounce on whatever was in the doorway and for a second seemed puzzled that there was nothing there.

Platoon, Fire! The Colonel yelled at the top of his voice, sighting on the Dilhangran and pulling the trigger of his rifle to start the ball rolling. Five beams from phasor rifles struck out, targeting the two Mankron until the burst into flame, then they switched to the Dilhagra. They didn't seem to be having as much effect, but it stepped quickly out of sight.

Platoon, Cease Fire! The Colonel called again. Marines forward!

Quickly the two marines and the Colonel flitted forward towards the door, each moving in turn and covering the next as they progressed each taking a side of the door so they could watch past the door frame. Nothing moved. The Colonel dived through the opening, rolled to his knee and scanned either side of the corridor. Still nothing.

Silently he signalled the bay party forward to take station at the doorway, then indicated for the marines to trace their route up the corridor.

  


Guthorn took up a position where he could watch what was happening outside the holds door, certain that sooner or later the Mankrons would enter to deal with those inside. For fifteen minutes he watched them in an uneasy silence, until the door seemed to roll open of its own volition. There was a bang that heralded forty seconds of concentrated fire, catching two of the Mankrons completely off their guard and made the Dilhanga seem to disappear in a white ball of heat. The other two leapt clear of the door, before they too were caught in the inferno before it too shuffled out the fire.

Guthorn didn't wait to find out what happened next, the three remaining enemy were obviously moving in his direction and he knew well that he would not be able to take the three on by himself.

He slid silently back to his feet and hurried up the corridor, until he became aware of a clicking coming towards him from around the bend infront. Praying it was a single Mankron, he stepped out boldly into the centre and fired the blaster from his sword straight into the faces of two advancing Mankron, obviously hurrying to the aid of those outside the hold. Seeing that he had only taken one, he swapped back to the sword again and charged at the second, which was still dazed from the effects of the first exploding infront of it. With a mighty battle cry he cleaved downwards with his sword, feeling it split the creatures crown. He tried to keep going, but his feet got tangled with the two fallen Mankron and he sprawled, his sword flying away from him. Desperately he rolled and tried to dive for his weapon again, but was horrified as another set of spindly feet slammed to the deck between him and it.

He looked up to see another Mankron regarding him coldly with its large and multifaceted eyes and preparing to impale him with its blades. He closed his eyes for a moment accepting his probable fate as two loud reports sounded. In amazement he opened his eyes again to see the creature tottering uncertainly, the eyes had disappeared.

Well get out the way, you damned old fool! A shout reached him, galvanising him into action and he scrabbled out of striking range, but still without a weapon. He looked around for the source of the shout in time to see the Colonel, now dressed in mottled green, turn to face a threat he was obviously expecting.

  


The Colonel gave up on a careful advance the moment he heard the Chancellors scream and had led the marines at a full charge down the corridors. Meeting the retra=eating party from the door he had simply slammed his way past them with the cry, Deal with these buggers! and careered on.

He saw the Chancellor fall after dispatching the second Mankron and the third that had suddenly sprung on the scene. He saw it hesitate for a moment, it was all the time he needed to crash down to a knee and bring his rifle up and fire, aiming as always for the eyes. He waited long enough to see the lenses shatter and shout at Guthorn, then dropped the rifle and pulled his own steel blade out to face the Dilhangran he could sense coming up behind him.

The Dilhangran slowed to an almost respectful halt as it met the tall Earthman and his gleaming blade. The Colonel regarded it quietly as it examined him with alternate eyes.

You could just let us go? he suggested mildly. Nobody else need to die today.

The Dilhangra didn't seem to give the suggestion much thought. Your inferior Terran race has caused me much trouble today, it announced.

I'm sorry about that, the Colonel apologised carefully. Speaking personally I don't like being abducted.

The Dilhangran brought an arm up, it appeared to be a tube. The notion was enough for the Colonel, he dived hard to one side, crashing onto his weak shoulder as a series of needle sharp darts shot past his flailing leg. He was up again in a trice, ignoring the pain, and dived forward with his sword, for it to be met by one of the Dilhangras many armoured arms. It lashed at him with a hook, narrowly missing his leg as he dived away again. At a safe distance apart again they regarded each other coldly.

You are quick and brave, Terran, the Dilhangran complimented. But foolish to think you can defeat me, your primitive weapon cannot hurt me.

You, Sir, are a fool if you believe that. Everything can be killed, you are no exception. If not me then someone else will come along to finish the job, he answered calmly.

He dived in again and felt the sword clang against the creatures exoskeleton, then a piercing pain as it lanced him with another of its appendages and lifted him by the shoulder. He hacked at the limb with his blade and felt it break of and drop him to the ground. He had just enough time to bring the great blade up again to block a body smashing blow from yet another limb and see the blade snap into two. Not waiting he snatched the broken blade from the floor and slammed it and the remains attached to the handle into the upper joints of the creatures legs, before falling back again. Blood showing from his shoulder and lacerated hand.

The creature staggered and fell as it lost the use of the two legs and he kicked out at it with his feet, catching three of the eight eyes on top of its crown.

In the moments pause in the proceedings he grappled with the appendage that protruded from his shoulder and pulled it out and waved it at the creature as it regained its balance on the four remaining legs. Two of which, armed with talons seemed uncertain on the slippery metal floor. The Colonel slid backwards towards the fallen Mankron as it loomed over him, then flung himself to one side again as it stabbed down again. The two taloned feet lost traction again on the blood and it slipped again, giving the Colonel time to lash out again with his makeshift weapon, ramming it into another joint and pulling away again as it reared up again.

His collar was grabbed and he felt himself being pulled back quicker as Guthorn yanked him away before another stab from the Dilhangran crashed into the deck where he had been laying.

More appendages than a Swiss Army Knife, the Colonel muttered to the Chancellor as he stepped forward to take up the battle, swinging his power sword again.

The Dilhangran met the new threat with a double attack, slicing with one arm and swinging low with a club shaped limb. Guthorn easily blocked the first and it squealed in pain as the limb was severed, but couldn't avoid the lower swing as it took his legs from under him. Again his sword went flying, to be picked up by the Colonel as he staggered to his feet.

He stabbed at a button on the handle and the sword shimmered into life again as he threw himself at his foe, grabbing it firmly around what served as a neck and holding himself as close as possible to it. Mandibles shot out from its mouth and gripped his throat, squeezing it tighter. In desperation he slashed at them with the sword. It was deflected and slid deep into the creatures mouth. It was obviously causing pain, so with the last of his rapidly dwindling strength he forced it upwards and twisted. The grip on his throat slackened and he fell to the deck, unable to control his descent he slammed almost unconscious on the floor, dragging the sword with him. It forced the tip up into its cranial cavity and the Dilhangran collapsed with and on top of him.

Guthorn staggered to his feet and approached the fallen bodies with care. He kicked the Dilhangran but it made no move, then he pulled the Colonel out from underneath it. He found a pulse a weak one, but it was there.

The two marines arrived after dealing with the Mankrons hand to hand, looking happy about their performance but showing the scars of the hard battle, blood showing vividly upon their tunics. Gwyndal also knelt beside the Colonel. I'll take him, Sir, he announced calmly. Apart from the loss of blood there is nothing serious.

Gently he picked the unconscious human up and carried him away with he Chancellor following close behind. Wondering at the strange mixture of tactics the human had used, part caution then total recklessness when he had realised he might fail.

They found Seven of Nine standing waiting for them in the corridor. She took one glance at the returning party carrying the pasty Colonel.

Get aboard the shuttle, she ordered. We will leave immediately.

She watched them board from the door then pulled out a hand phasor and set it to overload before throughing it through an access hatch. Quickly she boarded the shuttle and shut the door before taking her seat in the pilots seat and activating the shields.

I have set a phasor to overload and placed it into a main plasma power conduit, she announced calmly. Our departure from the ship will necessarily be rough, it sounded like an apology.

  


Where is Seven of Nine? Chakotay demanded again. As far as Voyager could tell all that was still present in the local area was the Valorian ship which was busy regathering the parts that it had disregarded and a crippled Cathor warship. The Dilhangran vessel that Seven was aiming for had disappeared, as had Seven of Nines shuttle. In desperation they had launched several more sets of probes to try and find the target, but with no response. Signals from the Colonel had also stopped being broadcast. Further away another they detected an other Cathor fleet heading for them and a small squadron of Felongran warships, also heading for Voyager. It was uncertain which would arrive first.

Unhappily they had to accept that they would not be able to find the ship for a while.

How soon before warp power is available, B'Elanna? Chakotay asked unhappily.

About an hour, she responded quickly. 

The Felongrans will arrive within that time, Tuvok reported quietly.

Chakotay nodded calmly, there was little else they could do for a while. Try and contact the Felongran, he demanded. Perhaps we can persuade them not to attack, he added uncertainly.

The Felongrans responded as soon as Tuvok opened the Channel. Camathronan's face appeared upon the screen. Have you recovered them? He demanded immediately.

We have lost contact with our rescue party, Chakotay responded immediately. And we've lost the Dilhangran vessel we were following.

Camathronan nodded an unhappy acceptance. There is a battle fllet heading for this position, he reported. You should set course for the Cathor fleet for protection, he advised. 

We will search this area for your people, he added in consolation.

Commander the Dilhangran vessel has just reappeared, announced Tuvok suddenly. Course 240.16, range 150,000 Kilometres. They appear to have lost power in an explosion.

Tom, set course, maximum impulse, Chakotay demanded quickly. Keep scanning for the shuttle.

I have the shuttle, Tuvok added a few minutes later. They are being fired upon.

On screen, open fire as soon as we are in range, we must try and protect the shuttle, Chakotay snapped. Kim beam them out as soon as they are in range.

They watched as the shuttle twisted and turned trying to escape from the enemy vessel.

Seven of Nine to Voyager! Seven's voice reported calmly. Mission successful, four require medical attention, one urgently. Shields are down.

We are on our way, Chakotay admitted.

The Felongrans have changed course, Tuvok reported. They will intercept the shuttle before us.

They watched helplessly as the Felongrans reached the shuttle. Then in surprise as they continued past it and attack the Dilhangran vessel, they turned away sharply as explosions started to form throughout the ship and reformed protectively around the shuttle, until it docked.

Chakotay almost ran for the shuttle bay as the shuttle was finally caught in the tractor bay to haul it inside. Then found himself waiting impatiently for the doors to open as Seven of Nine systematically shut the systems down.

Finally the door opened and the occupants stepped out. They were led by two small bundles of fur as the two Felongran cubs launched themselves out the door. The Captain and Princess Madila followed more sombrely and they stepped aside quickly as Gwyndal and Chancellor Guthorn staggered out supporting the pale Colonel. Finally came Seven of Nine. 

Chakotay took one glance around the tired faces, then his own broke into a grin. I'm not sure who is the most hurt, he commented. Get them all to Sick Bay!

Chakotay's communicator burst into life. The Felongran fighters have taken station around us. Their weapons are charged and Camathronan is hailing us. He wishes to know if his cubs are safe? Tuvok reported crisply.

I'll be right up, Chakotay confirmed after a moment. Tell him we are having our Doctor examine them and he is welcome to join them.

  


Two hours later Voyagers Sickbay reverberated to deep guttural purrs as the black furred forms of Camathronan and his mate, Desiree, appeared and the two cubs launched themselves at them from a standing start, sat as they were one either side of Seven of Nine.

Mrs Samuels, Camathronan purred happily. We thank you with all our might for your service. How can we repay you?

Seven of Nine stood slowly and calmly. My part in the process was small, she stated. Lieutenant-Colonel Samuels, performed the majority of actions required to keep your cubs safe. However his opinion will be that your thanks will be sufficient recompense.

Camathronan bowed to her and turned toward Captain Janeway and Chakotay. Surely she does not mean that? he mewed plaintively.

Both Chakotay and the Captain shrugged in unison. He has never taken anything from us either, the Captain admitted with a crooked smile. Now, what are your intentions for Voyager?

Camathronan looked uncomfortable. You know we are tasked with the destruction of your ship? He asked quietly.

The Captain nodded.

It is an order I do not intend to carry out, he declared. We will return to Sharawonga and claim your vessel was destroyed during combat. For my families protection, please do not let it be known that you have survived?

The Captain nodded in understanding as Chancellor Guthorn and the Princess Madila stepped forward to join the small company. Hunter Camathronan, Guthorn rumbled, giving the Felongran his official title. Unlike the crew of Voyager, I do owe you some thanks. If you find that you are not believed when you return, you may surrender yourself to any Cathor vessel. I will assure that you are given protection. When the fleet arrives I will dispatch a vessel to take station above Sharawonga for that purpose.

Camothronan purred gently as he bowed. I hope it will not be necessary, My Lord. We thank you for your offer.

He turned again to Seven of Nine, bowed deeply toward her. I thank you and your mate again for your service, Mrs Samuels. You will express our deep gratitude to your mate?

Seven nodded uncertainly, as the two cubs detached themselves from their parents and once again wrapped arms around her thighs, looking up at her. Distractedly she stroked their furry heads before replying. I will do as you request.

Abruptly she disengaged the cubs and turned toward the Colonel as he lay silently on the medical couch.

To the Captain, as she ushered her guests out of the room, it looked as though Seven was crying as she held her husbands limp hand. It was something that she would have to keep a careful eye upon, she decided. Seven had found love and somebody to share it with, but it was looking as though the cost to her was going to be high.

  


  


  


Revision 8

   [1]: mailto:B@Elanna



	11. Aftermath (New 25/04/01)

1-20 Aftermath

**1-20 Aftermath**

  


_Part three of Sharawonga_

_After the excitement of recent events Voyager and her crew try to settle down to normal life again. They watch as alliance form and worry about another, as Seven of Nine finds that the emotions that go with love are too painful to bare..._

_Voyager and the characters aboard her (except the Colonel and additional characters) in this story are copyright of Paramount. No resemblance is intended to any person alive or dead._

_The story line and the Colonel are my own._

_Constructive criticism and comments are welcome on e-mail _story@rgower.f9.co.uk .

_If like me you like to know why things occur like they do, I would heartily recommend you start at chapter 1-01 Castaway. _

_This story is rated PG13_

_©R Gower 2000_

  


  


The Colonel awoke the day after his return from their exploits with the Dilhangran, almost fully recovered after the Doctors patient ministrations. He was alone in the alcove he quickly established, though he could hear the Doctors voice outside, treating somebody. He felt a slight sense of loneliness and sorrow that Seven of Nine was not there when he woke, then beat it back with a feeling of guilt, he had run out on her in an attempt to rescue two Felongran Cubs. That rescue had led him to need rescuing himself from an even greater danger and he had relied upon her to carry it out. She undoubtedly felt she had more important things to do.

Gently he slid of the couch and tested his strength, finding it adequate he sauntered out of the alcove to find who the Doctor was talking to. He found him talking to a green skinned crewman, with what looked like burns to his face and hands.

That power conduit was supposed to have been made safe by Seven, the crewman complained. It shouldn't have blown up!

Keep still, the Doctor scolded. I need to keep this regenerator over the affected area for a few more minutes.

I think recent events have been too much for most of us to handle even Mrs Samuels, the Colonel interrupted gently, announcing his presence in the conscious world.

The crewman stiffened as he realised that his complaining had been overheard by the most dangerous person on the ship to upset. Especially as that man was the husband of the object of his complaint. He glanced fearfully in his direction. I'm sorry, Sir! He spluttered. I didn't know you were still here. But she was supposed to check the conduits on Deck 11 yesterday afternoon.

You know the procedures, Crewman. If you have a complaint you take it to your superior, they will follow it up. You don't bring it to the Doctor and whinge, the Colonel pointed out bluntly. But as I know about it, I will ask her for you. Would this be the conduit in section 11? If I remember she has been keeping an eye on it since it was last replaced because of an overload. An overload that she traced to crew quarters, yours I believe Crewman Carlile?

The crewman swallowed hard. The Colonel being reasonable seemed even more dangerous than him threatening violence. He visibly shook, annoying the Doctor further.

We don't have the same facilities to entertain ourselves as officers do, he protested weakly. We don't figure high on the privileges roster, so getting a Holodeck is almost possible and we can't use the Mess! We need to use our quarters, he protested weakly.

The Colonel held up his hand to stop him. I used to be a simple rifleman. I know what Barracks are like and how they seem to compare to the Officers Mess, he pointed out. I can tell you officers country is not all it's cracked up to be. It's why a developed a preference for detachments, he said. We all lived in the same state then, usually wet, dirty and scared. It is a great leveller. Would you like to compare stories of cramped and difficult spaces?

The crewman shook his head quickly as the Doctor shut of his regenerator, then fled quickly.

He does have a point, the Colonel admitted to the Doctor. The Other Ranks Mess always tends to be more boisterous than the Officers Mess.

He also has a point that the conduit was due to be checked by Seven, the Doctor added. But I don't think anybody has seen her since she returned.

The Colonel turned in surprise. Not being seen socially isn't dreadfully unusual. Not doing something she is expected to do is. Has anybody actually talked to her? After all her first official holiday went rather drastically wrong?

She doesn't come to me for sympathy, the Doctor pointed out. I think the Captain was intending to, but I don't know if she did.

If I may be released, then I'll go and find her, the Colonel promised. I think I owe her a major apology anyhow.

The Doctor nodded his acceptance and he left the room.

He did not search her out immediately, but went to seek out Captain Janeway. He found her in her Ready Room.

Permission to Report for Duty, Ma'am? He snapped crisply and saluting.

She looked up surprised, then delight showed across her face. Up all ready! I wasn't expecting you until tomorrow at the earliest! She pronounced.

He grinned. You can't get rid of a bad penny like that, he said lightly.

She grinned at the ancient proverb. You aren't a bad penny, you're a good and shiny one. And I'm going to need your help over the next couple of days. We've made quite an impression on the Cathors and you have been the main instigator.

Her face fell again as something else crossed her mind. I'm very sorry about the way your honeymoon went. I think you had better go and talk with Seven. She's taken the last couple of days pretty hard.

He pounced on the worried implication. She thinks I deliberately put myself in danger? He guessed.

She nodded and watched him seem to sag infront of her. 

Seven wants me to change and I don't know how, he admitted. I am trying, Ma'am. But there are things that are going to take time and others.. he trailed off defeated.

Perhaps you should get her to explain what she wants from you? She suggested sympathetically. Take as much time as you need to sort it. I need you both too much, I know that now, I don't think I did before.

He nodded silently and spun out the room again. She noticed he hadn't saluted, perhaps there were the beginnings of change, she thought pensively. She hoped it was going to be for the better.

  


It took him an hour to track down Seven of Nine, she had curled up into a ball in the corner of Cargo Bay 2 and was sitting rocking quietly, looking vacantly into space. He watched her for a moment, then sank down beside her and waited for her to recognise his presence.

She had been sat there for over twelve hours after finding that the Alcove that so often provided answers to her more difficult questions, had failed to provide a single one to the turmoil she was feeling. Without the Colonel's patient help in overcoming them she did not know where to start in her attempt to work them out. She was left trying to answer them for herself and finding it more difficult than she had thought possible, as she ran over the events of the previous few days.

There had definitely a satisfaction of belonging to somebody, even amidst the hostile stares of the Felongran in the resort. That must be a factor in love, she decided. It existed when he had started to talk to the Felongrans, bolstered with pride when he had leapt the rail to attempt to rescue the cubs, tinged perhaps with shock that he had reacted so quickly.

But there was his refusal to leave the remaining cub, when she had pleaded with him to rest after the exhausting battle with the fast flowing river. What had she felt then, frustration, fear that he may be overcome. That dreadful word pride crept in again as well and stared at her with its cold eyes. She knew well enough what he was feeling, it was he always felt in these situations, duty. It was his duty to rescue somebody, it was all the goal he ever seemed to need, it seemed so easy for him. That thought added bitterness to the growing list of conflicting emotions. Bitterness that he seemed to be able find something that satisfied him so easily, whilst she barely seemed to make progress in her own goals.

Then there was the horrifying moment he had disappeared over the fall. The horror of losing something she had only just found to be so valuable, had been such that after the first few moments of panic her mind had closed down around it, allowing her cold Borg side take over. She didn't like that idea either, but it had helped her carry on despite the pain, she granted her logical mind that benefit.

Then she had felt joy at finding him again and the dread as he had marched off again to do what he felt he had to do, leaving her fearful for his safety again. The conflicting strains had been too much over too short a period for her newly gained emotions to stand. She had felt them before, she knew, even aboard Voyager. There had been the advanced Borg that her nanoprobes had produced with the Doctor's emitter in a transporter accident. She had watched it develop, then sacrifice itself for the protection of the ship, the emotions she had felt had left her shaken then. But even then she had still felt she lived in a remote world. This time the losses had seemed so personal and intimate and could have gone so badly wrong.

The questions without answers swung around and around her, never getting close enough to be caught and she didn't know what to do with them.

Finally she spoke. You have recovered?

The figure crouched beside her half turned towards her before replying. Physically yes! Thank you. I apologise profusely that our holiday was curtailed.

You could have been destroyed. She ignored the apology.

Her voice was cold and lacked emotion, worse than when he had met her, he realised. 

He nodded. I could have been, he admitted candidly. But I have something to come back to now! It makes a big difference.

Yet you insisted on risking your existence in the prosecution of your duty.

It had to be done, there was nobody else. What would you have me do? He asked softly.

I do not wish to experience the feelings I have felt over recent days again. I lost my humanity trying to control them.

If you lost them then why are you worrying now? He asked, seeking her hand. Your emotions let the part of you that was better able to cope take over.

She pulled her hand away.

he said carefully. Your emotions are what you have become, what you are. Yes they are powerful, it is what makes us human and we learn to deal with them as best we can. You have never criticised me for being what I am or doing what I feel I must and I have never criticised you, because we know who and what we are. But we have and are changing each other. 

Do you know the first thing I asked and looked for after the waterfall? He asked.

She looked at him, her blue eyes now soft with tears, and shook her head weakly.

I asked for and looked for you. I have never said or done anything like that in action. I felt alone and wanted somebody, you, to look after me, he grinned briefly. I have never wanted to be looked after before, but I wanted you to be with me. Just as I am always there when you need me.

She did move then, moving closer to the tall soldier, silently sliding her arm around his back and resting her head against his shoulder. He responded in kind, gently squeezing her closer to him.

I do not like these powerful emotions, she complained in a whisper. It was easier as a Borg, before you came.

You wish me to leave you? He asked softly. If that is what you think is for the best I will comply.

She pleaded, panicking that he may misinterpret her comments. I do not wish to lose the feeling of comfort and belonging.

Then you will have to get used to the possibility of pain as well, he commented. Neither of us is exactly in a risk free occupation. You should be able to understand reasons for that better than I can, he whispered, kissing her hair. It is described by science.

She looked at him sharply. Human emotions are too erratic to explain with science, she retorted, suddenly feeling on more solid ground.

Can't it? He grinned in relief as his sweetheart suddenly came alive, arguing about things she knew about. The science I was taught long ago was, Every action has to have an equal and opposite reaction', if that one has gone as well then I'll be sure to tell Sir Isaac Newton when I'm finally let back into Hell.

I do not know Sir Isaac Newton, she pointed out, settling back after his clumsy teasing.

He was an old Earth Scientist, claimed to have been the inventor of gravity, with the fateful word Ouch!' when an apple fell on his head, he described. He also created the three basic laws of energy and put the human race back several hundred years.

You are attempting to tease me! She flashed back. Advances in Science can only result in the increase of knowledge.

He grinned more warmly. he admitted. But it is nice to have you back and that is an advance that has nothing to do with Science. Have I told you how much I love you?

You will do so! She demanded, grazing his neck with her teeth.

Is that all you love me? He protested, turning towards her fully. We can do much better than that. Then we can go an have some dinner? 

His mouth closed fully over hers and they slid to the deck.

  


You have recovered! Chancellor Guthorn exclaimed in delight at the Colonel, the following morning. 

The Colonel responded sharply, standing at full attention and saluting. Seven of Nine standing in close attendance beside him.

There is no need to be so formal, the Chancellor protested animatedly. After all you called me a stupid old fool' the other day. I don't imagine that is a formal address for a leader from your planet.

The Colonel blushed. I apologise for the reference, Sir! I have no defence for the use of a phrase derogatory to you, Sir! It will not happen again.

The Chancellor bellowed in laughter at the soldiers discomfort. I see there are a lot of things you can teach our younger knights, he observed. Backing out of calling a leader an old fool is one of them.

If the cap were to fit sir. I would be sure to advise you, Sir!

And you made that sound as though you have used it when you meant to. I think I will take your nervousness as a compliment, but not perhaps for my fighting skills, the Chancellor commented happily, turning to Seven of Nine. 

Mrs Seven of Nine, my beautiful rescuer. Thank you! He bowed deeply before her and kissed her hand, to her obvious embarrassment. I believe it is the duty of a knight in your culture to come to the rescue of beautiful women, not the other way round.

Perhaps I should have left you with the Dilhangran? Seven responded neutrally.

I can quite see what your husband sees in you, the tall Cathor replied by way of an answer. Beautiful, calm and a far better sense of humour. I am sorry that I allowed him to get hurt. Please forgive me. He bowed again to her.

Do you want to wait for Princess Madila, or shall I escort you to the Conference Room so you will be ready for her, The Captain injected before things got out of hand, she could almost sense the Chancellor starting to flirt with the ex-Borg. I believe she has been delayed.

The Captain had decided that the Cathors and Valorians should continue their discussions for an alliance, not to letting it die in the shambles of the Peace Conference on Sharawonga and had invited them aboard Voyager to continue their relationship accordingly. The Chancellor was the first of Voyagers visitors for the day.

Of the events on Sharawonga, there had been little good news, she knew. The Felongran fighters had returned to the planet after recovering the cubs from Voyager, and they had sent a message stating that the Dilhangran had gone and the conference had broken up, leaving Sharawonga in peace for the time being. But there were rumours abroad that suggested that peace had become a lot less stable than its hitherto precarious balance, she didn't want to think of her new friends fighting on their own.

I think I will wait, thank you, Captain Janeway, he decided. Perhaps you will permit me to talk to Seven of Nine for a few minutes longer alone?

A little reluctantly she agreed and directed the Chancellor to the room next door. Seven of Nine dutifully guided Guthorn as the Captain had directed.

You aren't entirely human are you? He pointed out.

I was human but I was part of the Borg collective before being freed by Captain Janeway and Voyager, she admitted carefully.

I have never met them, but I have heard of them, he claimed. This must be a very brave crew to have been able to rescue you?

They are resourceful.

He smiled slightly at the correction. The Colonel is a very brave man though? He speculated.

He is determined and takes risks, she admitted. 

That is probably as good a definition as any you will find, he agreed.

He will fail one day, she claimed, her unhappiness tingeing her calm voice. 

He picked up on her feeling of resignation. If I were to give you both the opportunity to live safely together, could you persuade him to stay on Cathor?

Her voice was sharp.

I think there is going to be a war in this sector, the Chancellor explained sadly. Colonel Samuels is the greatest fighter and survivor I have ever seen. And his tactics are very different to ours and at least as effective. I would like to see him teach our knights the same way as he trained the two you had aboard Voyager.

He will refuse, he has orders from his own commander to serve Voyager, she snapped hotly.

But the only thing he really cares for is you, my dear, Guthorn pointed out. He would give up everything if he thought he could keep you safe.

She stared at him levelly. He has accepted my protection. If he feels the need to perform his duty he will do it, then trust me to keep him safe.

Please consider it? He begged.

Seven of Nine nodded a grim agreement before moving towards the door again.

He believes your race created the Borg, she said as a parting shot. You are proposing to ask him to create a force that could create a bigger danger than them.

The Chancellor followed her, mystified by the strange statement. He would have to try and make sense of it later, he decided, as the transporter shimmered into life.

Princess Madila was at least as pleased to see the Voyager crew as Guthorn had been and showed it more, wrapping her arms around an astounded Seven of Nine and Colonel Samuels. The later blushing firmly and hotly under the attention.

I'm sorry, she gasped, suddenly realising the embarrassment she had caused. But I'm so glad to see that you are both well. And we are allowed to demonstrate that pleasure in our culture, she trilled happily.

"However it is unseemly in my culture and occupation, Ma'am!" The Colonel stammered, blushing hard.

"You make the stuffy Cathors look like freedom," she teased, embracing the Chancellor warmly. "It simply won't do."

Grinning widely the Captain led her two guests away before the Princess could embarrass the Colonel further.

  


Captain Janeway watched the activities of her two guests with acute interest, they seemed to have become a lot closer than simple leaders of their respective races. As chairman of the Conference, she was required to mediate between the two to achieve the best solution for both parties. In practise, she had little to do, the two parties had long come to an agreement that they wanted to form an alliance. Now they were simply trying to agree the final terms.

Finally Princess Madila leaned back in her seat. I think we have an agreement, she trilled. We will provide you with a base for a flotilla on Valoria, as you will for us. With a standing patrol from Cathor acting as a joint fleet under our control whilst in our sector. Two joint crewed exploration ships. And a home for upto five million Cathors on Valoria the final selection to be at our discretion. I think my mother the Queen will agree.

What is Cathor getting out of this? asked the Captain curiously.

The Princess will supply data on their defensive systems and fighters, Guthorn answered quickly. They are superior to ours. Her yacht took a direct hit from the Dilhangra and was not severely damaged.

It doesn't sound much, the Captain pointed out.

They are giving as much as they have, Captain.

We shall seal the agreement with a party, Madila claimed cheerfully. As a thank you to our Star Fleet friends, Chancellor?

Of course, Your Highness, Guthorn agreed quickly. There are people from my ships you will need to meet.

Your crew are all invited, Kathryn. It will probably be the last time I will see some of them to be able to thank them personally, she added conspiratorially.

I will ask those that are available, the Captain laughed, thankful that things seemed to have succeeded so well. I assume that you particularly want the Colonel to attend?

And Seven of Nine, they sing and go so well together, the Princess insisted.

  


The first thing Captain Janeway did after she saw her guests off, was to seek out the Colonel and Seven of Nine. 

The Colonel she found in the Cargo Bay, searching a rack of discarded parts.

What are you looking for, Colonel? She asked.

Steel, Ma'am, he responded neutrally. My old blade was thrown in here. I was hoping to find enough to make a new one.

Why not come into the twenty-fourth century and use the power sword Marine Gwyndal gave you? She asked curiously. Or even replicate one?

It's the weight, Ma'am, he explained. The power sword is poorly balanced, it feels uncomfortable to use. 

Mind you I'll probably start carrying it in my pack, it does have a lot of uses, he admitted.

I asked Ensign Kim earlier if it would be possible to replicate a decent blade. He was less than certain. My old sword was less than half inch thick, but there was over a 1000 layers of steel in it, each layer had particular properties. That is why it was so flexible and easy to keep sharp. So I will have to work out how to forge one.

Well it won't be tonight, she laughed. Princess Madila wants you to be a guest of honour tonight, along with Seven.

His face fell at the invitation. I was hoping to spend a private evening with Mrs Nine, Ma'am. She is less than happy with my actions on Sharawonga. I wanted to try and make amends.

I'll try and make sure you get back in plenty of time for that, Colonel, she promised turning to go.

  


Seven was as expected working in Astrometrics.

You will come to the Valorian leaving party? She prompted quickly.

Party, Captain? Seven queried blandly. If they are leaving I see no benefit in such an irrelevant activity.

When people you like leave it is customary to see them off with a social event, the Captain explained patiently.

So I should have had a Party' when the Colonel disappeared? The ex-Borg demanded harshly.

Captain Janeway sighed and wondered if Seven was being deliberately obstructive. No, Seven. Those would be very different circumstances. There would be nobody happy to see him go like that!

You like the Valorians but are glad they are leaving?

That is illogical. Why should you be glad that somebody you like leaves?

It is traditional, Seven! The Captain exclaimed, holding up her hands in resignation at the circular argument. We have few enough friends in this Quadrant! Besides there is the alliance between the Cathor and Valoria, that should be marked with some sort of celebration!

Both you and the Colonel were expressly invited by the Princess, she added hopefully.

I will consider the request, Captain, Seven agreed obliquely.

What's up, Seven? The Captain sighed, finally picking up and accepting the signals. Are you having problems with the Colonel?

Seven protested quickly. 

Too quickly, the Captain picked it up. 

With your relationship? She hazarded the guess. 

My feelings for him, Seven admitted. I find his company necessary for my efficiency and, she had to search for her next word. She placed it carefully.

I did not wish him to rescue the Felongrans, I was afraid he would be irreparably damaged. When he fell over the waterfall I felt pain at the loss. When I found him again, he continued to perform his Duty' to rescue Chancellor Guthorn. There was more pain because he was hurt again. I do not wish him to be hurt! I do not wish to experience those feelings again! 

There was real pain in those blue eyes Captain Janeway decided, as Seven's admissions died away.

You are not the only person who loves him and gets upset when he gets hurt, Seven, she consoled gently.

You will prevent him getting in that position again? Seven demanded harshly.

The demand staggered the Captain. 

I can't promise that Seven. You know that! She protested in alarm.

He isn't Star Fleet, she pointed out, still rattled. Even if he was, he will always act for the protection of the crew and ship, no matter what I commanded. If not for us, then for you. There is no way I can stop him, except hold him in the Brig. I'm not even sure that would stop him for long. 

If he was actually a crew member, there are times that I would have to put him in danger simply because he is the only person on the ship that could cope with the situation, same as I do with you and everybody else.

I wish him to be protected, Seven pleaded.

I'm not sure anybody can do that! Captain Janeway exclaimed. 

Or I wish to be alone and avoid the feelings I have felt, Seven announced.

You know you can't do that either! The Captain bristled. 

Seven listen to me, she started urgently. You love him. He is as much a part of your life as your alcove, even more than that, probably. I have never seen anybody as in love as you two are. You knew what the Colonel was like when you fell in love with him. It was among the reasons that you fell in love with him for, the way he protected you and everything around you. You can't change him or stop him doing it as quickly, or as completely as that!

I wish him to be mine, or not at all! Seven responded desperately, tears now clearly showing.

He is, the Captain assured her slowly and forcefully. 

But right behind you comes anybody else who is in danger. You know that, you've read the records we have.

His love does not mean much to him! Seven sniffed.

It and you mean everything to him! The Captain protested. But so does his duty. If something comes along that he can do, then he will react. That is who he is. You don't think he can be everything, You', want him to be and still be Him!

He will do anything for you, she continued, reasoning gently. But he needs to be what he is, otherwise you will having nothing left of him. You can't change him like the ships sensors, with a push of a button, it is selfish of you to try!

Seven of Nine looked at her, anger now behind the tears. You believe I am being selfish? She demanded. What of his desire to serve others?

Yes you are! The Captain snapped. It will push him away from you!

She turned for the door, then stopped. Before you were married, he came to me for advice, she said reflectively. He was terrified that you had fallen in love with him simply because he was the first person that really spent time understanding you. He was scared that it wouldn't last.

I told him in no uncertain words he was wrong, that you loved him for what he was. I wonder if I should apologise to him for being wrong? 

She left, leaving Seven of Nine to consider the statement.

  


The Captains party gathered in Transporter Room 2, ready for beaming to the Valorian ship. The Captain quickly tallied up her complement. There were two crewmen and an ensign in addition to her normal deck crew, but Seven of Nine was missing.

Where is Seven, Colonel? She queried in surprise.

She said she was feeling a little drained, Ma'am, he responded quietly. She believed a couple of hours in the machine would do her some good.

I'm surprised you turned up then, she said, thankful that he had.

Personally, I think she is still upset with me and wanted some time on her own, he whispered in her ear. I would appreciate getting back as early as possible.

I'll try, Colonel, she promised as they beamed away.

Captain, I thought you were bringing Seven of Nine! The Princess trilled as the appeared aboard the Valorian yacht. I was so hoping to talk with her!

She wasn't feeling particularly well, Your Highness, the Colonel answered formally and bowed before her. 

Nothing severe? She demanded, concern showing on her face.

If it were, Your Highness, I would not be here, the Colonel assured her. But you will forgive me if I leave as soon as is polite?

Of course, after I've had my dance, she giggled suddenly.

Your Highness, he bowed again.

The Voyager party were escorted to the dining hall.

Captain Janeway, Colonel Samuels, they were greeted in turn by Chancellor Guthorn.

The Captain responded happily.

If you will pardon me, I'd like to talk with your Captain for a moment? He announced to the small Voyager contingent. He took her arm and led them to a quieter corner of the room.

I would like to ask you for a favour? He confided quickly as he pulled a drink from a passing waitress and handed it to the Captain.

If it is possible, the Captain agreed readily, accepting the drink and taking a sip.

I would like the Colonel to join the Knights!

The Captain choked on her drink, the green fluid spilling down her mouth. You're not serious! She spluttered.

He sighed and tried to avoid her eye's. I wish to offer him the opportunity to stay on Cathor and train our knights for combat, he admitted. My offer also extends to Mrs Nine and will give her the opportunity to keep him safe and alive.

You don't know him as well as you think do you? She snapped. He has sworn an oath to protect Seven, my crew and the ship. He won't break that. Even if he did, do you think he would be happy just training people? He will want to lead them into battle, because he will think it his duty to protect them!

I will prevent that, he promised. When I met you on Sharawonga I was impressed by your honesty and intelligence. Even so, when you told me about the Colonel I did not entirely believe you. Until I watched him in action on the Dilhangran ship. He is the greatest Knight I have ever seen in action.

There was a time when the Cathors were the greatest fighting force in the Galaxy, he declared, suddenly unhappy. But time has passed and now there are few of us that are capable of producing the sort of defence necessary to combat an enemy. The Colonel could change that.

You still have the most powerful fleet I've seen, the Captain pointed out.

Oh yes! We have the ships, the Chancellor agreed bitterly. But it takes more than Star Ships to win a war, surely you have seen and accept that?

The Captain thought over past events. she admitted. He does seem to have the ability to solve problems and isn't phased by the danger.

I can't stop you asking him, Chancellor. He isn't part of my crew, she agreed. But I doubt he will accept and he won't go without Seven agreeing and being happy about it. I will be less than happy to lose a valuable member of my crew.

Dinner was declared and the Chancellor gallantly offered the Captain his arm. Cautiously she accepted it.

  


Seven of Nine had spent an uncomfortable hour convincing the Colonel he should go to the Valorian party without her. She had desperately tried to hide her feelings from him. She knew full well if he realised how unhappy she was, he would have insisted on sitting with her until she finally told him about her feelings. She did not want him to know about them, they would hurt him to the core and he would take the sole blame. 

She knew more about his life than anybody else aboard the ship, she had entered much of it into the ships logs for the Captains information. But there was also a lot that she could not bring herself to record. She therefore knew how much of himself he had placed in the oath he had sworn to protect her, everything, and that included continued protection from himself as well. She was terrified what his response would be if he thought that she was unhappy with her relationship. 

Her talk with the Captain had thrown more factors into the maelstrom of emotion that she could feel welling up inside her. Now she was uncertain whether any of her feelings were a direct result of him, but a result of the way she thought about him. She needed time to think by herself.

In the end he had accepted her story that she was in need of regeneration, though she suspected that he could see through her deception, and had unhappily escorted her to her alcove before kissing her gently and leaving her to set her alcove into action. 

She sat quietly on the step of the alcove and considered her position. There were too many conflicting emotions for her to understand at once. She was desperate for help, but there was only one person she felt she could trust or would be prepared to help her the way she needed. As the target of her frustration, she could not go to him to receive it. Not for the first time she wondered how humans coped with the confused world that formed their minds.

It was a dejected Seven of Nine that finally rose from her seat and stood in the Alcove for welcome oblivion.

  


The Captain found herself sitting beside the Princess and Guthorn at the table with the Colonel sat opposite. She barely noticed the conversation as it flitted across her, lost in her own thoughts.

Would the ship be in any lesser position to get home without Seven or the Colonel, she wondered. Could they have found a way out of the events that had overtaken them, or had they just relied upon him to save them when they had made mistakes.

Her reverie was broken by the Chancellor speaking to her. Tell me Captain. Seven of Nine told me that you believe we created the Borg race. Can you explain the reason? We have never met a Borg vessel.

It's the Colonel's theory, he pieced it together, she said, looking across the table at him.

Perhaps you should explain, Alan!

He looked surprised at the sudden use of his Christian name and looked around as if trying to find the person she was talking to. Suddenly he realised who her target was, blushed and grinned sheepishly.

Sorry, Ma'am! The only reason I remember I have a name at all is because it's on my Dog Tags, he apologised to the amused table.

The Borg. Yes! He hummed for a moment before continuing. You don't know them and they don't know you. But it was a Borg cube that intercepted the Cathor crystals and in your own system. If they were Borg at that point, they would have had half dozen ships sat on your planet long before now. Or they would have destroyed themselves, that being the closeness of their linking to the Unimatrix. 

As it is Mrs Nine has no recollection of any Borg action before they found your crystals. They must have been an advanced race even then. They don't appear to have a home planet. I understand that the Queen at Unimatrix 1 is from an assimilated race so there is no core race. Somebody created them.

My opinion, for what it is worth, is that they were a race that took slaves and were even more highly dependent on technology than we are. The crystals did their work when they were picked up and they carried out mass suicide, leaving the slaves. Perhaps they dressed the slaves in the armour they use now. They must have been oppressive masters, they would have been brainwashed any how. Either way they were left with and took control and carried on doing what they had been forced to do, but as their own masters.

I wouldn't worry. It's not something that you could use in Court, but it is a story that would allow all the little bits we have to join up, he admitted as he finished lightly.

Why didn't the slaves die with their masters? the Chancellor challenged with a grin.

The Colonel shrugged. They had already lost their minds, it isn't a particularly difficult task. I could destroy yours in a few months if I made you a slave. That is the general idea behind slavery, you make living machines. It doesn't even seem to be difficult with electronics either. But it is difficult to destroy the mind of someone that doesn't have one and doesn't know who they are! 

Your theory has some validity, the Chancellor admitted guardedly. But there are flaws.

I'm sure there are, Sir, the Colonel admitted quickly. What is done is done and it can't be undone. It wasn't your personal fault, but it is worth remembering if you invent the perfect weapon again, without knowing how to destroy it.

You don't believe in weapons that can stop wars? Guthorn challenged.

Not especially, Sir, the Colonel admitted, then continued seeing the Chancellors question form. If you have the most devastating weapon the World, Galaxy or Universe, you can choose your own theatre, has ever seen, somebody will come along and decide it is a splendid idea to test it out. The trouble is the people who get hurt tend to be the ones for whom the result doesn't actually matter. Civilians, sometimes even soldiers. The stupid bastard that starts it rarely has to see or endure the results. 

So you prefer war?

It is more honest, Sir. But it is something I would rather not face given the opportunity. I don't know a soldier that has been on the battle line that does, the Colonel said sadly. If there was never another one I would not lose sleep over it.

Then why did you become a soldier? The Princess suddenly demanded.

It is what I did best, he said simply. But I look forward to the day I'm unemployed and I'm able to make my wife as happy as she deserves to be!

The Captain who had been listening carefully to the Colonel's statements, stiffened at his last. She is happy, she insisted quickly.

The Colonel accepted the statement at face value, but she could see he did not entirely agree with the sentiment.

I agree, Kathryn, the Princess backed Captain Janeway up. If I am as happy in my union as I believe Seven is, then I will be very happy indeed.

Chancellor Guthorn and I intend to be joined in our own Union, she announced. It will formalise our alliance.

The announcement took the whole of the Star Fleet contingent by surprise. Characteristically it was the Colonel who found his voice first.

If it is for personal reasons, Your Highness. I wish you both the best of what you want, he declared. 

If it isn't then I would scrap the alliance, politics isn't worth giving your whole life for, he continued in more sombre tones.

It is for personal reasons, the Princess declared leaning to kiss her new fiance.

And you, Sir? The Colonel questioned.

Madila made an offer no man can resist! The Chancellor grinned sheepishly.

In that case. My congratulations to you both, the Captain interrupted with a laugh. Don't take any notice of the Colonel's cynicism. You wouldn't believe the fight we had getting him to accept Seven of Nine!

Both the Princess and the Chancellor laughed. 

Perhaps we can help you to make Mrs Nine happy, Colonel? The Chancellor suddenly offered.

The Colonel asked, suddenly cautious.

I wish to offer you the post of First Knight of Training? He declared. You would never need to fight, and you could return to your wife every night. That is what you want, is it not?

No, Sir! The Colonel protested. I am not a mercenary, Sir. I have my orders and have given my word to follow them. 

But you want your wife to be happy. Your safety would make her happy! The Chancellor argued

Mrs Nine will never be happy being a house wife, Sir!

The Chancellor opened his mouth to argue further but was stopped by the Captain. You've had your answer, Chancellor. It is the one I told you you would get from him, she said sternly. 

Perhaps there is a possibility of a compromise, Ma'am? The Colonel offered thoughtfully.

Compromise, Colonel? The Captain questioned suspiciously.

The Cathors are going to repair the ship. We will be dry docked for about four weeks, or so I'm told. You're going to need Seven of Nine to help oversee the repairs and I will be in the way, the Colonel explained. So perhaps I could train a few of his Knights to train others. It will keep me amused for a while and I will still be able to see Seven when we are free. Is that acceptable, Chancellor?

The Chancellor nodded eagerly.

It sounds fair, the Captain agreed.

The Colonel rose quietly. In that case, if you will excuse me, Ladies and Gentlemen. I will have to obtain approval from my better half.

He bowed formally to the Princess and saluted her. Thank you, Your Highness, for accepting me at your table. I wish you the best of fortune in the future.

I was so hoping to have a dance with him, the Princess sighed in disappointment as he stalked out of the room.

  


The Colonel found Seven of Nine, as expected, still standing in her booth. He sighed and settled on a container to await the end of her regeneration cycle.

It was almost 05:00 before Seven of Nine stirred from her unfeeling coma. Out of habit she glanced at the container that Colonel Samuels invariably used to wait for her to come out of her enforced slumber. She was unsurprised to find him sat there, but was less than certain that she appreciated his presence. The feelings' that had forced her into the alcove were still present and his presence, she knew, was not going to help her overcome them.

He rose and approached the alcove, stopping short to offer a deep bow. That was unusual, she thought, he hadn't come close enough to take hold of her. 

Good Morning, Miss Nine, he declared formally. 

That was almost alarming, she decided. In the few days in which they had been married he had almost managed to lose all of his customary formality when they were alone.

Permission to escort you to your quarters, Ma'am? He asked, still very straight. I would like to talk with you in private, please?

He offered his arm for support as she stepped down from the alcove. She accepted it. she decreed, more calmly than she felt.

Reaching their quarters he settled her on a comfy chair and presented her with a mug of tea before settling on the second chair. They regarded each other, almost uncomfortably, for several minutes before either spoke.

Chancellor Guthorn asked me to go to Cathor to train his Knights to become soldiers, even offered you a place to help me make up my mind, he announced.

She stiffened nervously. You accepted? She asked.

Of course not! He almost spat the words. I have my duty here and you wouldn't accept being a house wife. But I did offer to train a few Knights to tell their arse from their elbows on a battle field whilst Voyager was in orbit being repaired. Subject to your approval?

I know I've upset you dreadfully, I'm fairly sure I know why and I know that the last person you want to see right now, is me! The Colonel claimed quietly. I know that, otherwise you wouldn't have been less than honest last night. You think I don't care for you as much as perhaps I ought. That I deliberately go out to try and get hurt, possibly even killed.

Seven of Nine stiffened in her chair again, he knew what she was feeling, she thought. She made to protest, but he stopped her with a raised hand.

You could be right, perhaps I do! He admitted unhappily. For most of my life I've been doing exactly that, usually in an attempt to protect people I've never met from a danger they have undoubtedly brought upon themselves. It has become a habit, a personal fixation. Until I met you and you turned me upside down and inside out, it has been one of the few things about me I have been proud of. It has made my life seem worthwhile and has protected me from the silly things I am scared of. Like being loved.

The problem is I don't think I can break the habit and in the end there can be only one possible outcome. Perhaps I should have tried to scare you off me more. I knew that I would hurt your feelings and that the emotions would scare you. The truth is I was too selfish and weak to try. I apologise for that, I should have tried harder.

I do not wish to be left! Seven pleaded. I wish to understand my feelings!

But you can't explain them to me because they flare up too painfully for you to think clearly. You think you might hurt me and I will find them too difficult to accept? The Colonel pointed out. Now you are wondering if I was such a good catch? Whether you want to be involved with a man that will undoubtedly get himself killed trying to protect somebody you don't know? Whether you can live with the pain I have and undoubtedly will continue to inflict on you? 

I love you. I will never leave you. When you need me I'll be there for you. You know that! he exclaimed. But I don't want you to feel caged in something you can't live with. Without hope of release. Perhaps a few days to consider your problems, without the fear of me turning up will give you a chance to come to your own decision. Then you can tell me what you really want from me?

She regarded him through her own misted eyes and saw the pain behind his steel grey eyes more than matched her own.

Your proposal is acceptable, she agreed eventually.

He leaned forward and took her hand in his, then kissed it tenderly. If you need me, remember I will come running, he whispered. You are the most important thing in my life. It hurts me more than physical wounds if you are unhappy.

Seven of Nine suddenly found herself blinking away tears. You should leave, she said quickly.

With a last kiss on her hand he did so. Leaving her to wipe away her own tears and compose herself.

  


The Colonel was beamed to the Cathor warship two hours later. He was met by Chancellor Guthorn, Dean Haldor, the ships Captain and a knight he had never met before.

Permission to come aboard, Sir! He announced crisply, slamming to attention and saluting.

Permission granted, Colonel Samuels, the Dean accepted in amusement.

The strange knight stepped forward.

Second Knight Cystine. I am honoured with your presence, Colonel Samuels, he introduced himself, bowing before the tall human.

Not for long, the Colonel snapped irritably, regarding the knight coldly.

He appeared to be about forty, 5'6 tall and broad across the chest. The Knights characteristic beard, below the flattened nose, a full and bushy grey.

Thank you for coming, Colonel Samuels, the Chancellor intercepted, trying to be welcoming. Will your wife be joining us?

His face dropped when the Colonel looked at him in restrained fury.

No she won't, Sir, he responded calmly. But I may wish to visit her aboard Voyager at periodic intervals?

I'm sure that can be arranged, the Chancellor agreed affably. We have a group of volunteers for you to test for acceptability. Second Knight Cystine will guide you.

You had better show me what I am going to train then, Mister Cystine the Colonel suggested.

Hurriedly he was led away to a huge hall located in the centre of the ship. It was over 200 yards across, easily engulfing Voyagers shuttle bay, he realised. In the centre were a party of some seventy knights, loosely gathered together, flanking them were Gwyndal and D'Argoniac the two knights he had already trained.

These are the first volunteers Colonel, Cystine announced hurriedly.

He grunted in reply before opening his mouth in a voice that rumbled through the hall. Corporals Gwyndal, D'Argoniac. Get this shower into something that resembles a parade, three ranks, at the double!

The two marines started at the sudden command and promotion, then rapidly and none too gently started to push knights into three rows.

Finally they turned to their former commander and saluted him smartly. Parade ready for inspection, Sir! Gwyndal reported formerly, keeping his face blank.

Thank you, Corporal, he responded neutrally, returning the salute.

Grimly he strode up and down the three columns, before taking position at the front and addressing them.

I am Lieutenant Colonel Samuels, he snapped, his voice echoing through the chamber with the force of his words. You will address me as Sir'. Corporals Gwyndal and Argoniac as 

I have been invited to teach you to be organised and professional army, how to fight an enemy and survive. I will do so and I don't care how I do it.

We are Knights, we can fight! a voice protested from the ranks.

You think so do you? The Colonel growled, approaching the individual. I wouldn't take you on a picnic!

He faced the man squarely and pulled the long knife he was using in place of his broken sword. The knight looked at it him in alarm. 

This is known as a sword bayonet, 18 of sharpened steel. It is specifically designed to puncture the chest of an enemy, parting his ribs so that it can puncture the heart and lungs, he growled threateningly. I've been using weapons like this nearly all my life. I can assure you it is lethal. If you know what to do with it.

He turned it over and handed it to the red faced knight, thrusting the handle into his hand.

If you can fight you should be able to kill me with it, he snarled. Here's the knife. Now kill me! Lets see if you can stand the sight of blood?

The knight looked around wildly.

What are you waiting for? The Colonel jeered. After all, you have my weapon and you claim to know how to fight, kill me!

Desperately the knight lunged at him, to find his arm grabbed, as the Colonel twisted past the blade, then smashed across an updrawn knee. He screamed in pain as he felt the arm break, then again as the Colonel twisted it. His shriek was cut short by a vicious uppercut caught him under the chin. He collapsed to the deck.

Corporal Gwyndal. I will see this man in private after his wounds have been treated, the Colonel announced to the shocked Corporal, retrieving his bayonet from the fallen man and returning to his position at the front.

Anybody else think they can fight? He demanded from the appalled company.

There was silence.

I was going to say I am an absolute bastard to those that fail to follow my rules. But I don't need to, he commented. I keep my rules simple. You will do as you are told, you will fight like bastards, you will act with absolute honesty, you will not fail this regiment. I have a long list of punishments for anybody that wants to break my rules.

Does anybody want to resign now? I'm sure Mr Cystine can find other duties, he offered the choice.

Two hands raised tentatively from the crowd. Corporal D'Argoniac, remove those two to a safe place, then we can start turning these people into real soldiers! the Colonel commanded, nodding at Cystine.

I'll start with you and any other bugger who thinks he can command in a couple of days, Mr Cystine, he warned.

Cystine looked at him with shock and horror showing behind the beard. I am a Second Knight! He protested in horror.

Corporal Gwyndal, was also a Second, the Colonel pointed out mildly. What is the point of giving you real soldiers if you don't know how to use them responsibly?

To command these men in combat, the standards you must set for yourself have to be higher and they have to see you reach them. You have to be tougher, think quicker, be better. Then they will follow you where you want to lead.

  


Seven of Nine emerged from her quarters and hour after the Colonel had departed. Furtively she looked around making sure she was unobserved before straightening up to her full height and strode purposefully towards her Astrometrics domain. 

She had agonised about the decision for the Colonel to join the Cathors for a period. Again she had argued with herself, going around and around her feelings like some never ending carousel. But no sooner had she identified one and thought she had a handle on it, it was knocked out of her grasp again by another and more powerful one. At that point she wished fervently she had never met the Colonel, or he had died before she had got involved with him.

Now she had resolved to try and live without him. It wasn't a perfect answer, she knew that. He would return to the ship in a few weeks, but perhaps her desires for him would be subdued enough for her to accept his presence.

She made Astrometrics without being challenged, but was faced with a new problem. There was nothing there for her to do. Any long range scans she carried out would be rendered ineffective by the time they were required. Normally she would have engaged in her second duty, examining and testing the power distribution system. But that would mean she would come into contact with the crew, she couldn't face that, not yet.

Reluctantly she turned to the computer and started to make out her log. Listing her feelings about the situation she was in.

  


It was an appalled Second Knight Cystine that reported back to Chancellor Guthorn and the ships senior officers.

The human is an animal, Sire. he protested. He almost killed a junior knight that tried to answer him back. Then he made them run around and dive to the ground, he did that for over an hour, it almost led to the death of another three. Now he is getting them to stand straight and walk like he does. We can't learn anything from him!

The Chancellor held up his hand to stem the torrent of complaint.

I watched him fight on the Dilhangran vessel. I watched him take on a Mankron, injured and unarmed. Could you? I have also read the records that Captain Janeway provided, Guthorn commented. He will train the knights to fight as well as he does and how to combat those that fight like he does.

You have talked to the two that returned from Voyager? He asked mildly.

Cystine nodded.

The methods are not unlike their experience?

Again Cystine nodded.

When he completes the training then our knights will be the finest in the galaxy and undefeatable. It will be of benefit when we have to go to war with the Felongrans again. They must be completely annihilated next time.

Observe him well, Cystine. Find a way we can contain him. We may not be able to use his known weakness for his wife, Guthorn recommended. I shall tell Captain Janeway that he is settling in well. Then we will have to find a way to persuade him to stay. We will start by making it difficult for him to be contacted. Haldor arrange a damping field around the areas he will normally be using.

  


Gwyndal was also troubled by the Colonel's approach to the Knights in the hall. He approached him about it, as he escorted his commanding officer to his new billet.

Permission to speak, Sir?

You wish to know why I hit that man so hard, Corporal? Colonel Samuels asked shrewdly.

The truth is I don't know, he admitted. Perhaps it's because I haven't got a lot of time to get their attention before making them into soldiers. Or perhaps it is because I don't really want to be here. My wife is not happy with me and it hurts, probably more than the broken arm I gave out. 

Gwyndal showed him into his new a smaller cabin, barely twelve feet square and without windows, it felt like a box room compared to his quarters on Voyager.

These will be adequate, Sir? Gwyndal inquired, mindful of the Colonels quarters aboard Voyager. There is an office next door I can clear for you as well?

Sufficient, Corporal, thank you. I doubt I will be spending much time in here, the Colonel sighed. 

Reveille 06:00. Make sure they are up and suitably dressed, he commanded dismissing the knight with a salute.

Gwyndal returned the salute, turned smartly and left.

  


It was a worried Captain Janeway that chaired the staff meeting a week later in the Conference Room. She didn't like the deal that had been struck by the Colonel with Chancellor Guthorn. She knew the reason why he had done so, they had discussed it at great length before she agreed to him departing. Seven needed to think about their relationship, but she was less than sure with the cold light of the days after the decision that his reasoning was valid.

Certainly the condition of unqualified subservience Seven of Nine seemed to want to apply to the Colonel was more than anybody could give, certainly not the Colonel, no matter how much he wanted to. She could almost understand Seven of Nine's desire to behave so possessively. The Colonel was the first person she had truly got involved with, the first that hadn't been afraid of her and above all the first person to have taken an obvious, close and personal interest in her feelings, fears and protection. But it had laid her open to new and extreme feelings that she could not control. 

Since she had all but separated herself from the crew, preferring to spend her time in either Astrometrics or back in the Cargo Bay. Rarely venturing elsewhere and certainly not socialising with others. She had almost slipped back into being a dispassionate Borg again.

Guthorn's report that the Colonel had settled happily into the new role that he had, Chosen', to accept, did not fit the Colonel she thought she knew either. His dedication to Seven of Nine was known and extreme. The fact that he was willing to separate from her was, as he had stated, a simple function of him wishing to protect her from anymore hurt that he might inflict, she had no doubt of that. But she doubted that he was enjoying the experience. She had not dared to try and tell him how Seven was reacting, fearing his reaction. It was disturbing her that the three occasions she had tried to contact the Colonel to get a report from him directly, via the communicators had resulted in no response.

His voluntary absence was having an effect upon herself as well. She was missing his calm dogged support and gentle observations. Even his formality and the ever varying intonations of Ma'am', a term she hated from almost everybody else, that could convey so many meanings, approval, disagreement, questions. She felt safe with him on her ship. Her own protector, that simply picked up her mistakes and put them right. She smiled at the thought, then sighed wistfully. She would have to talk with Seven of Nine and make sure the conditions existed for him to return before they left the sector.

The meeting also highlighted other benefits of the Colonel's presence.

Four crewmen have been briged for a disturbance in the Mess yesterday, Tuvok announced, first to report.

That is the first we've had in over six months, why have they started now? The Captain demanded.

The Colonel always seems to appear before they get carried away, Neelix explained. It is amazing to see the way he can solve an argument.

If he can't he takes them to the Holodecks and either puts them in a boxing ring, or through physical calisthenics. When he has finished they are too exhausted to argue anymore, Chakotay laughed. I was quite sceptical about how well it would work when he asked me the first time. But it does seem to work, if the problem is caught early enough. Not Star Fleet, but crude and effective. 

You are supposed to manage crew affairs, the Captain pointed out stonily.

He always reports the events to me and if he wants to take the more physical approach he requests permission first, Chakotay assured her. The truth is that he has more time to understand crew problems than we have. He also knows more about the crew personally than the computer and always manages to be in the right place at the right time. I think it prevents a lot of minor squabbles.

People think they can talk to him privately, Kim voiced. If you watch him marching down the corridor, you'll see him stop by everybody he meets and has a talk with them, or help them in someway.

I do that! The Captain protested.

But you are the Captain, Chakotay pointed out. He isn't, he doesn't appear as part of the ships authority. 

I'm beginning to wonder how much he does do aboard this ship, even without a specific duty, she mused, still aggrieved. No wonder he never seems bored.

Now about the Cathors reworking of our warp drive, she continued in a more business like manner. B'Elanna are you happy with what they are proposing to do?

They are proposing to strip out the converters and replace them with their own designs, she reported. They are quite different but look as though they are more than 40% more efficient. I tested them on the holodeck. A maximum warp of 9.99 could be maintained for at least four weeks. If we can strengthen the shields enough we might even be able to break Warp 10 without assistance and hold it for several hours.

Tom Paris whistled. That would be a big step nearer home! He exclaimed. Even being able to sustain warp 9.9 for extended periods would trim 5 years from the trip!

Seven of Nine strode in as he finished looking composed. Captain. I wish to make an observation and recommendation, she announced calmly coming straight to the point and without apologising for her lateness. She took up her classic At ease' position, standing straight, hands behind her back.

Oh! What about? Captain Janeway asked in surprise. It was the first time Seven of Nine had volunteered to speak for three days.

The Power Relay on Deck 11 section 9 is showing signs of overloading, Seven responded blandly. I believe that the overload may be traced to the crew entertaining themselves in the crew berths. They should be commanded to refrain from the action.

It is a problem, the Captain admitted. But I'm not banning them relaxing.

The relay will fail catastrophically again, Seven pointed out coldly. Continued repair and replacement is an inefficient use of time and resources.

We'll try and upgrade the circuit while the ship is in dock, the Captain offered.

The modification will require a major restructure of the power distribution system.

Then you had better work out what we need to do, the Captain suggested with a smile. Liaise with B'Elanna over the modifications.

she responded still calm.

Anything else? Captain Janeway queried.

I've been invited to learn how to fly their fighters, Tom Paris announced.

Take the opportunity, the Captain recommended.

I was hoping to investigate some of their historical records, Chakotay announced. I may be able to put some more flesh on the Colonels suggestions about the Borg and their creation.

That might be useful, the Captain admitted, still a little peeved that her second in command had allowed the Colonel virtual free reign in handling crew social matters. But I will need you here to help control the Cathor work parties. I think the Doctor and Ensign Kim had better handle the investigation.

Seven, you are to gain as much astral information as you can and feed it into the Astrometrics Suite. They can have as much of ours as they want, provided they give as freely, she commanded.

the Borg agreed.

Meeting dismissed.

They stood and headed for the door.

How are you coping without the Colonel, Seven? Captain Janeway asked quickly as Seven of Nine strode purposefully for the door. 

The question stopped her short. Slowly she turned to face her Captain.

I believe I have adapted to cope with the condition for the time required, she said slowly. 

You seem to have taken a huge step backwards. You are nearly as much a Borg as you were when we first released you, the Captain opined. 

It has been a difficult adjustment, Seven of Nine admitted coldly. 

I have given your comments on selfishness some consideration and have matched them with the contents of some of my log entries, she added uncomfortably.

The results?

I will be happy when he returns, she said simply turning to leave again.

He may need convincing, Seven! The Captain called after her as the door opened.

  


Despite her assurances to the Captain, Seven of Nine was still feeling the absence of the Colonel deeply. She had spent three days in self imposed solitary confinement after his departure trying to come to terms with the feelings of hurt and loneliness. 

Her loneliness and vulnerability had been particularly impressed upon her when she had stepped from her alcove the morning after his departure, and had consciously searched for her protector. Slowly the reason for his absence and the previous days discussions flooded back. They had hit her like a hammer blow. As had the Captains final comment as she had left the Conference Room. The only defence she could find, was to resort to her Borg habit of being remote to the point of surliness. It was proving to be as difficult and uncomfortable to maintain as the feelings that had prompted it were to understand. It was an uncomfortable realisation for her, she needed to know the Colonel was near to feel any degree of confidence to be near humans.

The Captain was correct, she would have to find a way of convincing her tall beau that she wanted him to return. It was that thought in her mind that she turned towards Engineering to discuss the power distribution modifications needed to reduce the loading on Deck 11.

  


Lieutenant B'Elanna Torres, she announced bluntly entering Engineering and targeting B'Elanna at a console. I wish to discus modifications to power distribution on decks 10, 11 and twelve.

B'Elanna looked around sharply at the cold intonation. She had heard that Seven had resorted to her Borg nature, but had not witnessed it until now.

I don't have time just now, Seven, she claimed mildly. Come back in an hour.

Insufficient, my requirements may affect your plans whilst the ship is being serviced.

The chilling voice forced B'Elanna to turn towards it's owner in some concern. It had taken years for her to learn to accept the ex-Borg. Then she had suddenly become a lot more human and thanks to various mishaps and respect for the Colonel, they had finally become friends that could talk. This old face was less than acceptable. It made her fear for her friend.

B'Elanna took her arm and guided her for the door. I think we need to talk, she said quietly. 

Vorik, keep a track on the input regulators, there is a fluctuation. It is within tolerance, but it could move again, she quickly ordered her number two, then guided Seven of Nine back down the corridors to her old quarters.

You are missing him, aren't you? She asked quietly as the door closed behind them. That is why you're trying to be a Borg again isn't it?

Seven nodded uncertainly. He is of benefit, she admitted. I wish to experience his company again. The Captain thinks he may not wish to return and I will have to convince him. I do not know how.

He thinks he has upset you, you will have to show him that you have forgiven him, B'Elanna mused aloud. If it was Tom and me, he would come along with flowers and chocolates. I'm a sucker for those.

Neither would be appropriate for the Colonel, Seven pointed out coldly.

I doubt they will, B'Elanna agreed. But there will be something that would.

The Captain also believes I am being selfish wishing him not to put himself in danger. Is that the case? Seven of Nine queried suddenly on shaky ground. She believes it will force him away from me.

B'Elanna sank back into her chair. I don't know, she admitted pensively. I suppose it depends on why you don't want him to do what he does.

I suppose, if you want him to always be close to you. So that he can follow you around like an unintelligent poodle. Then yes it is, she suggested. It's not unlike Tom and me. I can't stop him taking sudden fancies, there has to be some independence even in marriage. I know he will always be back.

Except that in the Colonel's case he will ultimately fail to return, Seven of Nine pointed out coldly.

I know, B'Elanna responded unhappily. But he has offered and given everything else to be with you, can't you be satisfied with that? After all you are the only person he accepts help from voluntarily! 

I saw him when he thought you had been hurt, she added gently. It ripped him in half. If the Captain lets him leave the ship, the separation will hurt him and keep hurting, long after you forget him. Remember how he held to the memory of his former wife, he still blames himself for her death!

Seven of Nine stared at her for several. She had never known the Klingon think and speak so sensitively. 

You are suggesting that he is incapable of adapting to my requirements? She demanded uncertainly.

He is adapting to try and match them all the time, B'Elanna responded quickly. But you can't change him from what he is.

Perhaps I should consider your statements as well, Seven agreed slowly after a few moments reflection. She turned to leave.

Didn't you want to discuss how to modify the power distribution? B'Elanna queried innocently.

Seven stopped in mid stride. she admitted uncertainly. I believe it will be possible to take additional feeds form section 9 on Deck 12 and section 14 on 10. There is a suitable route for power conduits beside the Turbo Lift shaft. However the conduit will have to be reinforced. These are the specification of the schematics. She held out a PADD.

Sounds a little Heath Robinson', B'Elanna mused, accepting the electronic notepad. I'll have a look at it and get back to you this evening.

Will you be alright till then?

There is no reason to believe otherwise, Seven of Nine announced stoutly, resuming her earlier crisp tones.

Seven of Nine turned for Astrometrics as soon as she left B'Elanna's old quarters. A new sense of resolve firmly implanted in her heart and a germ of an idea forming in her mind. 

The short discussion with B'Elanna had suddenly snapped a lot of things into place. Of course she loved the Colonel. The fact that he seemed resistive to others protecting him had been the challenge that she had taken as her personal goal. It was a battle that she was still engaged in and she was winning. A flash of pride suddenly filled her. She was the first and only person he looked to for support aboard the ship. Yes he used others to help, but she was the only person that he trusted totally.

She set a computer search going for information and waited for what appeared to be an age before the information she required appeared. She set herself down to study it in fine detail.

  


Chancellor Guthorn was as good as his word, as Voyager entered orbit over the planet Cathor the following morning, she was immediately guided into a massive space dock alongside the Chancellors own vessel. By the Captains estimation the dock was capable of safely docking eight Galaxy Star Ships and dwarfed Voyager, as did the warship she was docked with.

The docking formed the first chance she had of seeing the Colonel as he marched his new company of Marine Knights towards disembarkation. He had obviously been busy with them. They now looked nothing like the rest of the round shouldered shambling crew, but marched erect not looking to either side as he drilled them down the corridor. He also looked different, his face gaunt and strained. He didn't look in her direction as they marched past.

She was joined for a moment by Gwyndal. He doesn't think Seven of Nine will want him back, Captain, he whispered urgently. 

It is making him drive them hard and himself harder! I don't think he has slept for properly for three days. When he did I think he cried for what he thinks he's lost. It makes him drive himself even harder. He can't live like that! He continued rapidly, his concern showing. Please, Captain. Make sure your repairs are complete quickly and take him with you.

The Chancellor says he is happy, the Captain pointed out.

He would, the knight grunted, before hurrying after the rapidly disappearing company.

Something in his tone made her turn to Chakotay. Find where he is being stationed, she whispered. I need to go and talk with him.

She turned and went in search of Seven. She found her in the metallurgy lab working on the replicator.

I thought you would have joined us, just for the chance of seeing the Colonel, she chided.

I am aware of what the Colonel looks like, Seven responded calmly not looking up from her work. 

I have found it impossible to contact him, she added. 

You've tried your implant? The Captain asked.

Affirmative. The attempt was also unsuccessful, but not unusual. He has to be concentrating on it to pick up signals over any distance.

The news that Seven had not been able to contact the Colonel either, on top of Gwyndals warning words worried the Captain. She shrugged it off as she watched Seven carrying out another modification to the labs replicator.

What are you upto? She asked, her curiosity getting the better of her.

Lieutenant B'Elanna Paris suggested I should find something that would prove I had forgiven the Colonel, she explained.

So, what has that got to do with the replicator? The Captain demanded.

The Colonel's sword was broken in his last skirmish. I intend to replace it, Seven declared. It seems the most pertinent way of proving that I accept and wish to continue our relationship.

I have examined historical texts on the manufacture of iron and steel blades. I have found that the construction of a blade is extremely complex and beyond the design parameters of standard replicator technology, she continued. The flexibility and longevity of a blade is directly related to the perfection of the iron crystals and the number of layers it is created from. I do not possess the skills or time to forge a replacement. I am therefore attempting to enhance this replicator using Borg technology to manufacture the replacement.

The Captain nodded, impressed by the idea. Sounds good, she admitted. How much have you had to enhance it by?

In excess of a 30% increase in resolution. I have modified some of the layers to use more modern materials to improve it further, Seven admitted, refitting the cover to the replicator. I believe I am ready to test the adjustments.

She activated the controls and they watched as a thin barely visible sliver of metal appeared. Seven of Nine opened the access hatch and commenced an intimate inspection of the creation with a tricorder.

Each layer will have to be inspected for any grain irregularity, she explained to the mystified Captain. Any irregularity will cause a weakness. The process will take five days.

I'll leave you with it then, Captain Janeway announced. When you have it complete we'll go and find the Colonel.

  


Chancellor Guthorn watched, impressed, as the Colonel paraded his much depleted company of men on the parade ground that had been made available to him. He had prophesied that the Colonel's approach to training combat troops would show a difference in quality and he had been proven correct. 

Compared to the Knights that shared the same barracks, there was a tangible difference in the way they moved, stood and operated. It looked strange to see them moving as if they were one body of uniquely coordinated movement. It was, he reflected, also frightening. It promised uncompromising ferocity with economy of effort, all directed at a single goal. 

This was a unique approach to him, typically Knights operated in small 'Pods' of between three and six Knights. Where they were required to act against a larger force, a number of pods were simply thrown together. The Colonel also divided his men into small 'Platoons'. But the similarity stopped there. Whereas the Knights operated in loose cooperation with each other, the Colonels operated in strict coordination, not only with themselves but the other platoons as well.

He had just watched a demonstration of the Colonel's Knights, or Marines as the Colonel insisted in describing them, in action. They had overrun a fortified position held by six times there number of Knights. The stun markers showing that only six of his own men had fallen in the attack, whilst the defenders had been wiped out soon after the Marines' had reached their position.

Now he was berating them for having lost that many.

From the original seventy he had started with, they had been whittled down to fifty, as he had found those that couldn't match the standards he demanded. In front of them stood a smaller party of five others. Four of these the Colonel had selected from a group of forty Kights of Second level or higher that had volunteered to try and command this strange force. Marine Gwyndal was among them, having won the Colonel's approval and was now effectively the senior Knight, or Major' in the Colonel's terminology. The fifth was the Knight he had almost killed for claiming he could fight. The irony that he had passed the Colonel's tests and had been placed ahead of at least six First Knights, was not lost on the Chancellor. 

The original Second Knight, Cystine, had declined the opportunity of being trained by the Colonel. 

The Colonels opinion of him had plummeted through the floor when he had found out, leaving Guthorn with no option except to remove him.

With a guarded compliment, the Colonel finally dismissed his men, ranking them as, Good enough to join the Guards'. The Chancellor made a mental note to get the Colonel to explain the rankings of the strange regimental formations he was quoting.

The Colonel turned to him and saluted as they marched away. The demonstration met your approval, Sir? he asked formally.

It was impressive, the Chancellor agreed enthusiastically. "They are the ultimate Knights! Cathor will be secure again with some validity to trust our power supremacy."

"They are good," the Colonel agreed. "But not perfect. That will depend upon who you put in command. Nor will you be able to make it a huge army, without losing their value. It is a regiment that they should be proud to serve in, because it is an achievement to qualify," He continued in explanation. 

The Chancellor nodded. You ranked them as Guards', surely that is insufficient? A guard stands by a door?

The Colonel grinned tiredly. British Army traditional rankings, Sir. At the top come small specialist regiments like the Special Air Service and Boat Squadrons, small commando units. Then come the hard nuts. The Parachute Regiment and Royal Marines, even my own. They are trained to get behind the most hostile enemy lines and create havoc. Then come the Guards Regiments, the best trained of all line regiments. Followed closely and in loose order by Light Infantry, Fusiliers then the Territorial volunteer regiments.

I thought you were the best, that is what Gwyndal claimed? Guthorn challenged.

I am the best I've met, the Colonel offered modestly. I'm still here so I must be. But it is all in the deployment. You use Commando's to destroy a target. They aren't there to fight all day. If you need to take and hold a position behind enemy lines until relief arrives, then you look to hard fighting regiments. Which one you chose depends upon the best delivery source. Marines for sea landings, Para's for air drops, the Rifles to form a bloody trail.

The Chancellor pondered the explanation for a few minutes before speaking again.

After lunch I have a presentation to give. The Knight Council wish to present you with the Knight Order for your services, both here and on Sharawonga. I will also bestow the position of Supreme Knight. In command of your 'Marines'.

The Colonel looked shocked. I am grateful for the honour, Sir. But I am not permitted to accept, he declared.

It was the Chancellors turn to look shocked. It is our highest honour, and the rank is second only to my own, he protested.

I cannot accept either without express authority from my Commander in Chief, the Colonel insisted. Besides I won't be here for much longer.

Your Commander being Captain Janeway or Seven of Nine? Have you heard from either recently? Guthorn demanded cynically.

Neither, Sir! The Colonel responded bluntly. My CinC is or was on Earth. I cannot forward your offer to Her Majesty to obtain approval. Even if I could I doubt I would. It would be inappropriate, I fulfilled my duty nothing else.

As for contact from Voyager, I've heard nothing, he admitted. But my orders are to serve them.

Perhaps they have decided they don't need your presence anymore? Certainly Captain Janeway didn't appear to concerned about your return when I saw her yesterday. She didn't even enquire about your health, The Chancellor commented mildly.

the Colonel agreed. But I can only accept that from Captain Janeway as a written instruction, countermanding previous orders, Sir.

Now it's my turn to ask questions, Sir. Why have I had so many difficulties contacting Voyager, Sir. I tried to beg some more tea from Mr Neelix yesterday and I couldn't get through!

There has been unusual solar activity, it has blocked almost all communications with our ships in orbit, the Chancellor declared quickly. 

The Colonel nodded. Thank you, Sir. I was sure there was a perfectly reasonable explanation. I'm not being jammed at all.

Of course not, the Chancellor protested. I'm still hoping to see your lady wife joining you!

The Colonel grinned. I doubt that will happen, Sir. There can only be a couple of days before I rejoin her again on Voyager.

Now if you will excuse me, Sir. I really ought to get some lunch before the next drill. You are of course welcome to join me. It is only sandwiches, I'm afraid. But I have been introduced to the most mouth watering pastries I've every tasted, courtesy Major Gwyndal. I think I could actually grow quite fat on them!

I know the items and I would gladly join you, but I have other matters to attend to, the Chancellor declared.

The Colonel accepted the statement. 

He watched the Chancellor climb into his transport before setting off for his office and the promised sandwiches. 

I think I owe you a big thank you, Major, he commented in amusement, as he was joined by Gwyndal. You are right the Chancellor does want me to stay. He offered to make me a Supreme Knight' and give me a Knight Order'?

They are our highest rewards, Sir. You would be worthy of them, Gwyndal stated gently.

But not as a bribe, Major. Now where are these wonderful cakes you promised me?

  


The Chancellor was unhappy and he made sure that his staff knew.

He has found out about the dampening field! He stormed at his aides. You assured me he wouldn't know about it!

We can modify the frequencies, Sire, an aide offered.

It's too late for that, the Chancellor snapped. Voyagers repairs will be complete in a couple of cycles. We have to make sure that he believes he is no longer required and get him away from the planet. Once they have left he will have no choice but to stay with and serve us.

We could create a message from Captain Janeway, Sire? another aide offered. We have a good sound print of her voice, it can be synthesised.

We could also send him and his men to Harketh to help in the flood relief, that would appeal to him, the Chancellor mused. Very well arrange it. Do one from the Colonel resigning his position on Voyager. Broadcast them tonight!

  


Captain Janeway listened incredulously to the third replay of the discussion she had with the Colonel the previous night. It made no more sense now she was awake than it did then.

It had started off amicably enough, with him apologising for not contacting her sooner, blaming pressure of work. That at least was feasible, she admitted to herself, knowing how the committed the Colonel became when he had started on a project. It was the next part that didn't, and it made even less sense now she was replaying it to Chakotay, Tuvok and Seven.

The Knights are proving to be excellent pupils, Captain, the recording read. But they need supervision.

I've been considering Seven's problems. I can't in all reality impose myself upon her any longer. She will be better off without me. I have decided to stay here. Please tell her my decision, say I am sorry for what I have done and stop her doing anything silly.

But she wants you back! The voice of the Captain exclaimed. She wants you as you are!

I will only hurt her again, it wouldn't be fair on her. It is better she just forgets me!

It has been a pleasure to serve with you and your crew, Captain. I wish you well on the remains of the voyage. I'm sorry I can't be with you to see it completed.

The recording stopped dead at that point.

Tell me what is wrong with this recording? She demanded.

He's breaking his vow and his direct orders, Tuvok volunteered immediately. We know that is almost impossible for him to do.

There was no emotion, Chakotay claimed. What he is proposing would cut him to the quick, there would be something there!

He referred to me as Captain' not Ma'am' and he called Seven, the Captain added. He always uses Mrs Nine' when talking formally and he is always formal with me, even now!

Do we agree there is something not right?

General consent appeared from around the table.

So what do we do?

We should attempt to see him, Seven of Nine announced.

Captain Janeway nodded her approval. Have you completed that replacement sword yet?

The sword Seven of Nine had set about replicating had proven more difficult to produce than she had imagined possible. Her five days replication time had turned into four weeks as she fought with the enhanced replicator to produce the perfect blade, never accepting a single fault as each microscopically thin layer of steel was formed. She was now thoroughly impressed by the skills of the craftsmen that produced the weapons without sophisticated sensory equipment.

The last regeneration of the blade was completed at 05:00. It will be completed today, she claimed confidently.

In that case you and I will go and find him as soon as it is finished, the Captain declared. Bring it with you.

The Cathor's repairs to the warp drive are complete. They just need testing. So we will be ready to leave in a couple of days. The Colonel WILL be aboard when we leave, she vowed.

  


The Colonel was also having difficulty with the discussion he was having with Captain Janeway.

I haven't tried to contact you, she announced over a crackling link. There has been nothing to report. There has also been some sub-space interference, so if you've tried to contact us, you would have failed.

he responded neutrally.

Things are no better now, but the repairs are almost complete so I thought I ought to advise you, she paused.

Advise me of what, Ma'am? The Colonel asked cautiously.

Seven has decided that she can't live with the discomfort you bring.

The shock from the blunt statement had him collapse in a chair. I can find a spot below decks, Ma'am? He pleaded. I am vowed to the protection of your ship and Mrs Nine. I am prepared to continue to do so no matter what the cost!

I can't afford to bring you back because of what you might do to her. I'm sure you agree, the Captains voice continued heedless of his plea.

Absolutely, Ma'am, he assured her, swallowing hard.

I am sorry Colonel, she said finally. Thank you for being so understanding.

The link was lost in a sea of static. It left him breathing hard and puzzling at the news the Captain had supplied.

His musing were interrupted by the arrival of Major Gwyndal. I have an order for us, Sir! he announced quickly, coming to attention as was the Colonels requirement. 

Who do they want us to kill? the Colonel asked mildly.

Nobody, Sir! There are major floods on Harken. We are to join a relief party to assist in a rescue mission. 

It is an unusual order, Sir. Knights do not usually get involved in natural disasters, Gwyndal commented.

But you aren't a Knight anymore. You are a disciplined soldier, you go where ordered and do what you're told. Perhaps they have realised that upstairs, wherever that is, the Colonel pointed out, deep in thought.

Tell me Major have you ever known Chancellor Guthorn to lie? He asked suddenly.

No, Sir! Gwyndal responded in shock. Why, Sir?

Oh, nothing really, the Colonel was blase. It just seems a little convenient with the news I've received from Voyager. It seems they don't want me back.

He shrugged. Well we had better run a light drill today and get the men packed for transport, Major. Equip them with full packs, but light arms only. It will probably be a little messy. 

Major Gwyndal saluted and left. The Colonel followed him and took his position in the centre of the parade ground waiting for his adjutant to parade the Marines. 

It was there he felt a prickle in the back of his neck. He knew that feeling, it was the implant in his neck coming alive. He concentrated on it for a moment, then scanned the hills that surrounded the barracks. His eyes finally resting on the small knoll that stood about a mile from the camp. He stared at it hard, before his attention was brought back to his more immediate concerns as the Marines fell in for him.

You are all going for a little jolly tomorrow, he announced, there were flashes of interest from the men. 

We are going to Harken to fish a few people out the water. With that in mind I've decided we will have an easy day today. There were even a few wary smiles forming, easy days over the last five weeks had been rare.

I'm going to see if you are capable of getting within 100 yards of me without me seeing you. 

Major Gwyndal and I will station ourselves on the knoll. All you have to do is creep up and show yourselves at a range of not more than 100 yards. Those that achieve it will have until 17:00 to do as they please. Those we tag will run our practise route with full kit, he beamed at them.

Captain, release them in twenty minutes, he commanded.

Come along Major, at the double please.

The Colonel and Major Gwyndal set off at a quick jog towards the knoll that had attracted the Colonel's attention earlier.

  


The Captain and Seven of Nine lay on the brow of the hillock that had attracted the Colonel's attention. The Captain had decided to take a leaf from the Colonel's book and had elected to be beamed to this point. From here she could physically see what the conditions were before she suddenly arrived. Chakotay was waiting in a shuttle above them to transfer them to the Colonel's office as soon as she was happy he would be there.

They saw the Colonel look in their direction and were surprised when he started marching directly towards them.

Surely he can't have seen us here? The Captain hissed in alarm. We're over 2000 metres away! Who is with him?

It is Marine Gwyndal, Seven responded, her artificial eye having better acuity than the Captains. You wish to withdraw?

No, we might as well see him here as anywhere, the Captain sighed. 

He arrived with a breathless Gwyndal less than twenty minutes later.

Lovely day for a picnic, Ma'am? He suggested cheerfully as he joined them, offering a salute. Permission to join you ladies?

The Captain stared at him then grinned, trying to ignore his gaunt and haggard face. He was in as bad a state as Gwyndal had claimed in their snatched conversation during disembarkation. I'm not sure you are reputable enough, she teased, joining in the light hearted banter. Last time we were together I recall you rolling around on top of Seven.

The Colonel blushed. I don't think that will happen again, Ma'am, he responded more seriously.

What can I do for you, Ma'am? He asked formally. I was under the impression after our talk this morning that neither you or Miss Nine wished to have my company?

I haven't talked to you in nearly five weeks! The Captain spluttered. I haven't been able to raise you and nor has Seven! I came to find out what you meant in our discussion last night!

I haven't been able to contact you, Ma'am. I believe there were Solar Flare's or some such interfering with communications, Ma'am, the Colonel announced guardedly. Certainly that is what I was informed.

There have been no phenomena that would cause an interruption to communication, Seven of Nine opined.

The Colonel looked at Gwyndal sharply, he looked as puzzled as the Colonel felt. Major I think you had better keep an eye open for our would be sneaks. Make sure none get close enough to find the Captain or Miss Nine, he said quietly. There is something going on.

Gwyndal turned away and peered over the ridge ready to spot the oncoming Marines.

Miss Nine, could you assist the Major, please?

Seven nodded quietly and took a station by Gwyndal.

The Colonel sank to his knees before the Captain. Perhaps we had better tell each other what we told each other last night, Ma'am? he suggested.

Quickly they explained the communications they had each received.

The Captain finally sighed. I thought I could trust Guthorn!

If it's any help so did I, Ma'am, he admitted. If Miss Nine is adamant about her wishes, we now need to work out what we need to do.

The Captain opened her mouth to speak, but was waved down by the Colonel. Excuse me, Ma'am, he whispered. But a couple of my more enterprising men are trying to approach from the rear. I'll just be a moment.

He crawled away for a few minutes, then returned wearing a smile. Some people never learn. Just because you are creeping through the back door doesn't mean you don't need to keep your head down, he muttered.

Now, Miss Nine, are you sure you want this old fool back? he asked quietly. I haven't changed a great deal in the last five weeks you know?

In response she silently handed him the long package she had brought with her.

Carefully he unwrapped it, then whistled. It's gorgeous, he whispered, examining the blade and the fine engraving along its side, then testing the edge with his thumb. It's better than that, it's perfect. But are you sure, you know what it means? How did you do it? I don't see you working over a forge for six weeks?

Seven hissed at him emphatically. It is an enhanced copy of your original sword. There is no defect in its manufacture. You will not be able to break it.

He lifted his eyes to her. If I do, I'll know where to go for a replacement. You've even seem to have matched the engraving, he added in wonder.

I was uncertain as to the meaning of the markings, they were replicated also.

Nor do I, he admitted. I imagine it's on the line of Health and fortune to it's user and death to the enemy'. But it means something more to me now. With Love', perhaps?

He slid it back into its scabbard and handed it back to her. I think you had better keep it safe for me. Until I return properly. I'm not killing anybody here!

I know I said I wasn't going to roll around on the floor with Miss Nine, Ma'am. But would you consider turning a blind eye for a moment? He asked.

I'll go and help Gwyndal, the Captain offered with a smirk.

Thank you, Ma'am. He pulled Seven of Nine into an embrace that had her leaning into his chest as he fell backwards. 

I have missed you, he whispered as he kissed her. Thank you, for having me back!

she murmured from his neck.

They were disturbed a few minutes later by the Captain and Gwyndal returning.

Fourteen reached the designated range, Sir he reported. I sent them back to barracks as you requested. Captain Janeway has explained the circumstances. What do you wish us to do, Sir?

The Colonel sighed as Seven of Nine levered herself upright from his chest. I think you and the others should go to Harken as ordered, Major. That will keep you and them safe.

What about you, Sir? Gwyndal demanded. You are our commanding officer!

You've earned that position, Major. You know the values I've set, act on those. But never think about what I would do, it will be wrong for you. As for me, I'm going home and it will take a damned sight more than Chancellor Guthorn to stop me.

We're taking you with us, the Captain decided, reaching for her communicator.

Hold hard a moment, Ma'am! The Colonel protested quickly.

Voyager isn't ready for sea yet, he pointed out. He paused for a moment as if thinking of something else.

Is that the right term? He asked curiously.

No, but I know what you mean, she agreed. Go on! You have already thought of something else.

I won't leave my men until they sail, Ma'am, he pointed out. It would cause suspicion and while Voyager is sat in their dry dock you can't afford that. So make sure everything is, Ship Shape and Bristol Fashion', as we used to say, when I was a lad. Then have a Thank You' party for our beneficent hosts. That way all deals will have been completed satisfactorily so there can be no ramifications for anybody, except Chancellor Guthorn and myself. I'll gate crash the party when you depart.

I was going to anyway, if only to say good bye to Mrs Nine, he admitted with a shy grin. You wouldn't get away without me, Ma'am. Not whilst she is with you.

You would have been discovered, Seven of Nine claimed.

Only when I thought it safe to be, the Colonel agreed. I could hide a company on Voyager and nobody would be any the wiser.

The Captain nodded slowly the suggestion made sense. Her ship would be fully repaired and ready inside 48 hours. The modified engines would mean they could outrun the Cathors if they tried to pursue. We'll do it, she agreed. You will be safe until then?

He'll be safe, Captain, Gwyndal interrupted. We will see to that.

There is one thing else, Ma'am, the Colonel added. Don't tell the Valorians, unless you have to. I don't think the Chancellor is as politically motivated as he seems at the moment. He just wants to be proud of his home being the greatest planet in the Universe, and both races have a lot to gain.

I wasn't even thinking of it, the Captain protested.

You would, Ma'am, he grinned. I will see you in the day after tomorrow, don't forget to send me an invitation, otherwise I might not get past the guards.

Come along, Major. We have leave passes to prepare, he finished, standing to return to the Barracks. 

He turned before he made six steps and saluted. Your humble servant, Ladies, he declared and bowed low before them, to the Captains obvious delight.

  


This is so very good of you, Captain, Chancellor Guthorn complimented Captain Janeway as she greeted him on his arrival aboard Voyager for the farewell party. I am truly sorry that Colonel Samuels was not able to join us. There has been a disaster on Harken, some ten light years distant. I had to send his men there with several core of Knights to help in the rescue operation. He insisted going with them.

He does have a habit of taking his duty seriously, the Captain agreed honestly.

How have you taken his decision, Miss Nine? He enquired politely, turning to the ex-Borg. I am sorry it went the way it did.

His decision is satisfactory, she declared blandly. Also an honest answer, if understated. Apart from a twinge of regret, when she realised that the Colonel would not return immediately with them from the hill top, she was extremely satisfied with his decision. The crew had even noticed her smiling as she hurried about her duties, childishly trying to make the forthcoming party arrive just that little quicker.

Well your journey will be much quicker now, the Chancellor commented, turning back to the Captain. I understand our dock has fitted the latest drive configuration, Voyager will be as fast as our destroyers now! Still it is a small reward for the services you have provided and Colonel Samuels' service will be invaluable. When he leads his men into battle. 

You stated that you wished him to train Knights, Seven of Nine intercepted immediately. You stated that you wished to keep him safe. That is what you promised, when you offered the option of staying on Cathor.

He will lead the Marine Knights into action. It will only be one action. That will be all we need to show our superiority, the Chancellor predicted confidently. After that it will not matter. If he survives he will be hailed the hero and saviour of Cathor, if that matters to him.

He was brought up short by a stinging backhand blow, delivered by Seven of Nine. Rapidly followed by a graceful leg swinging around and catching him in the side. The Chancellor collapsed to the ground winded, holding his stomach and side. Around the room there was stunned silence and nobody moved at the sudden action.

You declared you would prevent him going into combat, she cried in desperately. You lied. The Colonel believed you were honourable and honest. We trusted you!

There was anger on the Chancellors face as he rose to his feet. We need the Colonel to prove we are still superior, he hissed defiantly. If he dies in the process it will not matter, there are others he has trained that will survive.

Seven hit at him again, her slender hand balled into a fist as it aimed for his Solar Plexis. The Chancellor was more prepared for the blow. He blocked the blow and grabbed her hand as she struck and twisted. The action turned Seven of Nine around and he started to lever upwards, pushing her forward and over. Before striking her in the small of the back making her squeal in pain.

I should kill you for your attack, he snarled.

Touch her again, Sir, and I will be forced to rip you in half! A firm voice announced from the door. Everybody span to see the Colonel marching in.

He had intended not to join the party, believing it better for the Chancellor not to find out about his disappearance, until after Voyager had departed. But he had been drawn to the doorway in the hope he would be able to pass the message to Seven of Nine that he was indeed aboard. Perhaps she would make her excuses and join him, so he hoped. He had arrived in time to see his beloved strike out at the Chancellor.

You are supposed to be enroute to Harken. I saw you board! Why have you disobeyed my orders? The Chancellor snapped, not releasing Seven of Nine's arm.

You are not my commander, Sir! The Colonel reported. General Fletcher provided my orders and Captain Janeway has not rescinded them. My duty is aboard the USS Voyager. 

As for seeing me board. Well, I got off the other side. At the moment I am acting on my own behalf. You have assaulted my wife, he added dangerously. 

Release My Wife! He barked the order, unhitching his Knights Power Sword from his belt and activating it.

There are thirty knights here, do you think you would survive? The Chancellor snapped drawing his own sword and waving it threateningly over Seven of Nine.

Possibly not, the Colonel admitted. But you wouldn't either!

Seven of Nine sensed a slight lessening of the Chancellor's grip and lashed out with her foot, driving her heel into the inside of his leg. He released his grip of her arm as he sagged from the painful kick. Before he could recover, the Colonel was between him and the woman he had held captive.

Your honour is badly tarnished, Chancellor, he said harshly. You tried to play politics with us and didn't do it very well! You tried to get me to stay on Cathor by clumsy deceit and are now threatening an unarmed woman. We however have done everything we promised we would do and a little more.

I suggest you retire now and work at making the Princess a perfect husband. That will require you to relearn the meaning of honesty. Let us go, Sir. Peacefully. You are too honest to be a successful politician.

The tension in the room was tangible, it could be cut with a knife, as the crowd watched nervously for the outcome of the battle that was sure to come.

Chancellor Guthorn looked up at the shimmering blade that was being held steadily less than six inches from his face, then at the hard face of the man that held it. Weighing his chances of defeating him. The chances, he decided, ranged from slim to non-existent. He could see death in the eyes of the tall human.

I am sorry, he declared crestfallen. You are correct. I did wish you to remain with us. I believed you would be able to build an ultimate fighting force, to protect Cathor and defeat our enemies."

"You may rejoin Voyager and the ship may continue on her way. My apologies are particularly extended to you Captain Janeway. I have wronged you. I am sorry I cannot make a recompense suitable, his voice appeared to be full of remorse.

He rose slowly, the Colonels sword still hovering close to his face as he did so. Slowly he deactivated his and held it out to the Colonel. We will leave now. There will be no attempt to stop you, he promised starting for the door.

One of the Chancellor's bodyguards inadvertently activated the blaster of his sword with a nervous twitch, the bolt mercifully striking the wall harmlessly, after narrowly passing the Colonels head. The sudden sight and sound of it flashing past the Colonel had him on him in a flash. Do you really want to die, son? He asked quietly. I could beat the Chancellor, you will be no contest!

The guard dropped his weapon.

Tuvok, escort the Cathors to Transporter Room 1, Captain Janeway announced, snapping to her senses. Get them off my ship!

Tom, get to the Bridge. Set us on course for home, Warp 9 as soon as they have left, she continued.

Numbly the Colonel watched the Cathors leave, before turning to the Captain. I'm sorry, Ma'am, he claimed. I neglected to ask permission to step on the ship. May I do so now? He asked, slamming a salute.

She laughed weakly at him. Granted, Colonel!

Seven of Nine slid up behind him and placed his arm around her quivering body. 

We will have to talk about these violent urges of yours, he suggested quietly. They can get you into all sorts of trouble, if you're not careful!

We will discuss the matter, after we have discussed your dereliction, she agreed, cattily.

Well I can see you have a lot to talk about, the Captain observed. You had better start on it now. You have 63 hours before your next shift. 

Good Night, she dismissed them, heading for the Bridge.

She was unsurprised by the salute and crisp that escorted her to the exit. It felt good to have some formality in her life again, she decided she had missed it. She was stopped though by Seven of Nines comment.

"I believe this party was a logical one, Captain," she said mildly.

"Oh! How so?" The Captain asked cautiously.

"I believe a celebration of the departure of our Cathor friends was appropriate," Seven declared. "Their leaving is satisfactory."

Captain Janeway grinned. "I suppose it was," she agreed quickly, then continued on her way.

  


  


End of Series!

  


**Authors Note**

This is the last of this particular series for the time being, as it seems to be nicely wound up. There is a third series in preparation and I will start posting as soon as I can see an end coming. For the time being I thank all that have read this small(?) offering and special thanks to those that have commented upon it. I hope you have enjoyed it as much as I have had writing it

  


Revision 39


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